Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand
by aviatrix8
Summary: It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western! Chapter 5: Lyn and co. get jumped by bandits as they cross the border.
1. Lost in the Wilderness

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

This is a first for me; an AU story. It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

by Avi

Prologue: Lost in the Wilderness

The sun's rays shone down upon the vast golden flatlands of the Sacramento Plains, far below. From this distance, it seemed empty; but as the view drew closer, a tiny figure could be seen walking across the plains.

Mark's breath came in harsh pants, as he slowly marched forward. As the sun beat down upon him, he could only curse his own foolishness for bringing him to this time and place...

xXx

For as long as he could remember, Mark Alexander had been fascinated with the world of the Wild West. When he was younger, he used to hide dime store novels detailing frontier adventures from his parents, who thought his obsession to be childish. But he never grew out of it, as his parents hoped; in fact, his major in university was current history, with a specific focus on the vast territory of El Libre, way out west.

For the Wild West was still alive in his world, and he had always wanted to see it; the plainsmen living peacefully in their teepees, the cavalry riding in to save townspeople from a band of outlaws, showdowns between gunslingers in abandoned ghost towns... In his imagination, he could picture all of these adventures... Adventures he would never see here, in the big city, way back east.

So, he had formulated a plan... For months now, Mark had been tutoring fellow students, to save up enough money so he could buy a train ticket that would take him out West; although his parents were wealthy, and could certainly afford such a thing, he knew they would never allow it.

He also managed (after begging several of his professors) to get a letter of recommendation, so he could apply for a teaching job out West. Mark hoped that it would provide him with a steady source of income, as he was living out there.

And now, Mark had enough money to buy the ticket, as well as a little spending money on the side. And although he was not the type who would defy his parents by nature (quite the opposite, actually), the lure of the Wild West was too great...

With a twinge of guilt, he bought the ticket, then went home and packed some of his belongings into a single carpetbag. Then, writing an apologetic note to his parents, bidding them a fond farewell, he left his home and went out to board a train that would take him out west... And towards adventure.

xXx

So, this is how Mark found himself on a train heading towards Burnt; the city just across the border in the territory of El Libre, and the one furthest to the east. Although a ticket to that particular destination was the cheapest he could afford, Mark didn't mind; besides, it gave him ample opportunity to explore as much of El Libre as possible.

He had just woken up from a restless slumber; Mark still hadn't gotten used to the noise and the bumpiness of the train ride, even after several hours of riding. Besides, he had been too absorbed in looking at the landscape rolling by (thank goodness he managed to grab a window seat!) _I must have finally nodded off, after watching for so long,_ he thought...

Mark glanced out the window again, and was delighted to note that the vast green fields he had been watching pass by had now turned golden; a sure indication that the train was fast approaching its destination.

Excusing himself to the other passengers seated beside him, Mark edged his way out of his seat and headed to the aisle, then made his way to the back of the passenger car, where the conductor was sitting.

"Excuse me, sir," Mark addressed the elderly conductor politely, "pardon me for asking, but how much longer will it be till we reach the El Librean border?"

The conductor pulled a silver pocketwatch from his waistcoat, glanced down at it, then looked up at Mark.

"Well, young man... The train is right on schedule today, so we should've just crossed into El Librean territory about 5 minutes ago."

Mark's eyes lit up. "Really? That's wonderful!" Realizing that he sounded too a little excited, he then added in a subdued tone, "Um... Thank you, sir."

The conductor's eyes twinkled at Mark's reaction. "Don't mention it, son."

Mark then took off his hat, and twisted it nervously in his hands.

"Er... I was wondering..." he asked the conductor, "Would it be possible if I could go to the caboose, so I can get a better look at the view? I promise I won't be a bother..."

The conductor smiled at him. "Sure thing, son," he replied kindly. "Go right ahead."

The conductor opened the back door for him. Mark tipped his hat gratefully to him, then stepped outside.

It was a bit awkward for Mark, walking outside on a moving train... Fortunately, the passenger car he rode was the second last car of the train, so he didn't have to walk very far. With some difficulty, he slid open the door to the caboose, and stepped inside.

"Excuse me?" he addressed the occupants of the car. "I just want to..."

He trailed off, as he was waved through by only person inside, a crewman sitting on a chair, with his hat on his face. He seemed half-asleep... Mark quietly slipped past him, then opened the back door and shut it behind him.

Mark leaned over the back railing of the car, and breathed in deeply. Before him, the rails of the track faded into the distance, surrounded by vast golden plains. It was a magnificent view... After being trapped in a train car for several hours, Mark could finally feel the tension ease out of his body.

As he gazed at the scenery, he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye; glancing to his right, he noticed a few people on horseback upon a distant cliff, watching the train go by. Mark felt his excitement build again... His first glimpse of real, live cowboys!

He craned his neck for a better look, but the riders had taken off somewhere... Mark felt a bit disappointed, but shrugged it off. He would surely see a lot of cowboys soon enough, once the train got to the station in Burnt.

Mark was then startled out of his reverie, as the train suddenly braked, slowing to a screeching halt; he nearly fell over the railing and off the train, from the unexpected stop.

Bracing himself on the railing, Mark clutched his hat, and stared at the back of the car, bewildered. _What in the world was that?_ he thought. _This train wasn't scheduled to stop until we got to Burnt!_

He double-checked his surroundings; sure enough, the train was still surrounded by wilderness. Now worried, Mark tried to open the car door; after a couple of attempts, he managed to get it open.

The first thing he noticed when he went in the caboose was the crewman he saw earlier, now lying on the floor. Mark tried to revive him, but the man was out cold... Realizing there wasn't anything else he could do for him, Mark decided to head back to the passenger car. _Maybe the conductor can help explain what's going on,_ he thought.

He was just attempting to open the door to the passenger car, when suddenly, he heard muffled screams and... Gunshots?

As he backed away from the door and flattened himself beside it, frightened out of his wits, he could barely make out the shouted words from behind the door: "This is a stick-up!"

_The train is being robbed?_ Mark thought in shock. Nervously, he poked his head around the side of the train to take a look, but quickly drew back his head; there were horsemen near the head of the train, no doubt a part of the gang of robbers.

_What am I going to do?_ thought Mark frantically. _If they catch me out here, they'll probably kill me!_ If he was lucky, they would only take his money and valuables... But then he'd be all alone in a foreign place with no money, which would almost be just as bad...

Mark's eyes grew wide with fear. There was only one thing he could think of doing at the moment, that would save him... So he did it.

He ran out into the wilderness.

xXx

Mark was lucky, very lucky, that the robbers on horseback were on the other side of the train when he ran; otherwise, his escape would probably have been cut short, right then and there.

It was only after he had run far out of sight of the railroad tracks and recovered from his blind panic, that he realized how utterly stupid an act this was.

For one thing, he had no idea where he was going... At least the train was known danger; out here, on the plains, was an unknown. The only saving grace was that he had been carrying his suitcase this whole time; not that there was anything in there that would help him, out here.

Mark cursed his own foolishness. He should've just given himself up and handed his money over to the bandits. They probably wouldn't have killed him, then; besides, once he eventually got to Burnt, he could've always wired his parents for more money.

Of course, therein lay the problem... His parents would then demand that he use their money to head back East, and he wouldn't dare disobey. Perhaps that was part of the reason he was afraid of being robbed... His foolish pride wouldn't let him give up his dream of exploring the West. Too bad he'd probably die because of it...

Mark sighed, and tried to think. If the train was heading west (at least, Mark prayed it was heading west, the rail line didn't exactly run in a straight line) and he had run away from the right of the train, then that would mean he was going north... Hopefully.

He tried to picture his geography textbook in his mind. The conductor had said the train had just crossed the border to El Libre, and Burnt wasn't far from there... So north would be... The Sacramento Plains.

_Wasn't there a town up there?_ thought Mark. He couldn't remember the name; it was too hot to think out here... His only hope was to keep on heading in the same direction, and hope he'd come across it eventually.

Sighing once more, Mark picked up his bag, and started walking.

xXx

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Mark kept plodding forward. He had no idea how long he'd been walking for; he supposed he could've checked his pocketwatch for the time, but he felt he barely had enough energy to keep walking, let alone do that.

Part of the problem was the heat; he just wasn't used to it. He had already removed his riding cloak and his suit coat; he would've taken off his vest as well, if it didn't mean he'd be carrying more weight.

As it was, his vest was unbuttoned, as well as the top of his shirt; his tie was loose, and his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He had left his hat on, however, for what little protection it could offer against the sun... Despite all this, Mark found himself panting heavily, from the heat.

Mark clutched his bowler hat to his head, in hopes that somehow it would block the sun's rays, if only briefly... It was then that landscape before him changed somewhat; from vast golden plains, wavering in the heat, into a forest of oddly pointy objects, in the distance.

_They couldn't be pine trees, not way out here,_ thought Mark muzzily. As he drew closer, it looked like a cluster of... Tents? The heat must really be getting to him, now...

It was when he stumbled into the midst of these strange abodes that Mark finally lost hold on himself completely. As he slid into unconsciousness, he had just enough time to register a figure stepping out of one of the tents, and pale face gazing at him in concern...

xXx

Mark awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet being pressed to his forehead. He groaned; his head still ached from too much exposure to the sun, but it was gradually being soothed by the coolness of the damp cloth that he could feel upon his head.

Something then struck him. _Where am I?_ Mark thought in dismay. Last thing he remembered was being lost in the wild, with the merciless sun beating down on him...

"Are you awake?" asked a far-off sounding voice.

Slowly, Mark opened his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, then everything swam into view.

Before him stood... A plainswoman. There was no mistaking it; Mark had seen enough pictures of natives in his textbooks to know what they looked like. He couldn't help but stare.

She was dressed in a fringed buckskin tunic, which stopped just below her knees, and was... Slitted at the sides, up to her thighs, he couldn't avoid noticing. Mark averted his gaze with a blush.

Her long, dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, although a couple of tendrils of it hung in front of her ears; these were beaded and decorated with feathers.

He also couldn't help noting that she had a sword strapped to her waist; that struck him as odd, as it was not a weapon he would normally associate with the plains. It looked to be a sabre of some sort...

"Are you feeling better now?" asked the plainswoman just then, startling him. Mark nodded, at a loss for words.

"I found you not far from here," she continued on. "You had just passed out, from the heat."

"You saved me, then," said Mark, feeling embarrassed. "You have my eternal gratitude."

"Oh, it was nothing," she replied, with a smile. "I'm just glad to see that you've recovered."

Reaching over, she pulled the wet cloth from his head, and squeezed out the excess water into a wooden bowl set beside him. Mark saw this as an opportunity to take in his surroundings.

He seemed to be lying on a cot of some sort... The walls around him were made out of hides and gathered at the top; it was then that Mark realized that he was inside an actual teepee. Normally, he'd be excited by the mere thought of this, but he still felt a little dizzy from the heat.

"Um, where am I, anyways?" he asked, trying to peer outside the abode. "I'm afraid I don't recall much after I collapsed..."

"You're on the Sacramento Plains. This is the home of the Lorca tribe; I am Lyn, of the Lorca. And you are..?"

"My name is Mark... Mark Alexander." He sat up as he said this, but had to lie back for a moment, as the blood rushed to his head.

"Are you all right?" asked Lyn, looking concerned.

"Just a little dizzy spell," he explained. "I'm fine, really." Lyn then reached down for something beside her.

"By the way, I managed to pick up your things," she told Mark, holding up his carpetbag. "You also dropped this." She handed him a brown bowler hat, which he gratefully accepted.

"Thanks." He placed the hat on his head. The plainswoman then gave him a thoughtful look, which made Mark feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Hmmm... From your clothing, I would guess that you're not from around these parts," she finally said.

Mark fingered the drab olive suit he was wearing, in a self-conscious manner.

"That's right. I'm actually from a big city, way back east."

Lyn raised an eyebrow. "You're a long way from home, then. What were you doing all alone on the plains?"

"Um..." Mark fell silent, uncertain on how to reply... He was then saved from answering, when there was a noise outside.

"Did you hear that?" asked Lyn, turning around. "It sounded like horses... Stay here, I'll go check it out." Heading to the entrance of the teepee, she poked her head of out the flap, then quickly drew it back in.

"What is it?" asked Mark, sliding out from the cot. He pulled on his jacket and cloak, which were left at the foot of the bed.

"Bandits," replied Lyn with a frown, as she closed the flap.

Mark's eyes widened. "Way out here, on the plains? Where did they come from?"

"They have hideouts in the nearby mountains, over by Burnt," she explained. "They're probably heading to the nearby settlements, to attack."

Lyn glanced outside. "Hmmm... Only two of them; I should be able to take care of that many," she mused aloud.

"By yourself?" asked Mark, taken aback. "Not that I doubt your ability," he added, as she turned and stared at him. "I'm just concerned about your safety."

"Don't worry, I can handle them," she said, reassuringly.

Mark sighed. "I'll take your word for it, then."

"You stay here, where it's safe," she told him, as she drew her sword. "I'll get rid of them."

"I can't just let you go out there alone!" Mark protested. He then flushed and looked away. "I know I won't be much help, but I want to come with you."

He waited to Lyn to say no, and that it was much too dangerous... But all she did was look him in the eye, and say, "Very well."

Mark was not quite sure why he had insisted to come along... He suspected it was because he was still ashamed about running away from the train. Still, he was glad Lyn had allowed him to come with her... He smiled back weakly at the plainswoman.

Lyn then glanced out the teepee again. "Could you grab my pack over there, before we leave?" she asked, pointing to the corner, without turning. "Then we'll sneak out while they're not looking."

Mark nodded. He then grabbed Lyn's bag, as well as his own. Fortunately, hers was not as heavy as he feared, and he managed to lift both with ease. He then headed towards the flap of the teepee, to crouch quietly beside the plainswoman.

At Lyn's signal, both of them quickly ran outside and across the way, to hide behind another teepee. Mark looked around as they did this, and noticed the two bandits at the far side of the settlement, heading in opposite directions. Mark breathed a sigh of relief; that would make it easier for Lyn to get rid of them.

"Stay close to me, so I can protect you," she whispered to him. Mark nodded. She didn't need to tell him twice!

Using the cluster of teepees as cover, they managed to sneak up on the first bandit. Fortunately, his back was turned, as he was busily examining a bunch of hides that the plainsmen must have left out to cure.

Lyn placed a finger to her lips, then made a motion for Mark to stay where he was. Then she slowly crept up to the bandit.

Just as she reached the bandit, he turned around, as if expecting her; the plainswoman just managed to block the blow from his axe with her sword, in the nick of time.

The bandit managed to parry Lyn's first slash with his axe; the deflected blade cut her arm, causing her to wince. But the plainswoman was light on her feet; she managed to dodge his subsequent attacks, then she thrust her blade at him for the killing blow. Mark looked away as she did this, and tried not to feel ill.

When he turned back, Lyn was standing over the fallen bandit, sheathing her sword.

"Whew... That was close," she commented, wiping the sweat from her forehead. But Mark was too busy to notice this, as he was staring at the gash on Lyn's arm.

"You're hurt!" he exclaimed. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'll be fine," she reassured him. "I've got some healing salve in my pack. Can you get it for me?"

Rummaging around in Lyn's bag, Mark finally pulled out a sealed earthenware pot. "Is this it?" he asked.

She nodded, and he handed her the pot. After Lyn applied some of the salve from it, Mark then pulled out his handkerchief and helped to tie it around Lyn's cut arm.

"Thanks. Now, let's get that last bandit!"

"All right..." Mark was concerned about Lyn's injury, but tried to keep the worry out of his voice, for her sake.

The last bandit was on the other side of the settlement, by a large teepee that Mark assumed belonged to the chief... As they approached him warily, Mark noticed Lyn's eyes widen, as she caught a glimpse of the bandit's face.

"That's Bart the Beast!" she whispered to him, as they crouched behind another teepee. "I've seen his wanted posters in town."

Mark looked worried at this. "Are you sure you can take him?" he whispered back.

"I'll do my best to protect us." Lyn's expression was one of determination.

"All right, then," he told her, in an encouraging tone. "Go get him!"

She nodded. Lyn then charged at the bandit, opting for the direct approach this time; the bandit, caught off guard, just managed to deflect her opening blow just in time.

Mark could see that this was a tough fight for Lyn... She was quick, but the bandit was strong; even she couldn't dodge all of his attacks.

Lyn backed off for a moment, looking weary; that's when the bandit raised his axe, for what looked like a finishing blow.

"Lyn!" Mark found himself crying out.

The bandit looked up at him then, and the plainswoman took advantage of the situation; slipping past the bandit's axe blade, she managed to thrust her sword deep into his abdomen. Mark shut his eyes as she did so. When he opened them again, Lyn was wiping the blood off her blade.

"Sorry about my yelling out, back there," Mark told her sheepishly, as he stepped out from behind the teepee. "I got a little worried..."

"That's all right," replied Lyn, with a smile. "You managed to distract him enough for me to get him. Thanks." Mark smiled weakly at her.

"Let's go inside then," he told her. "I'll help tend to your wounds."

xXx

After being led back to the teepee he first found himself in, Mark helped to apply healing salve to the rest of Lyn's wounds, then wrapped them in bandages, which he got from her pack. Fortunately, none of cuts were too deep, and they were finished in no time.

"Thanks," Lyn told him warmly, as Mark replaced the first aid supplies into her pack.

"Don't mention it," he replied, smiling. "It's the least I could do, since you protected me."

As the plainswoman stood up from the cot that she had been sitting on, Mark decided to ask Lyn a question that he had been meaning to ask since he arrived.

"So, where is the rest of your tribe?" he asked politely, trying to keep the eagerness out of his voice. "I would really love to meet them."

At this, Lyn's eyes grew sad and distant. "They're... Not around anymore," she told him quietly.

Mark's brow wrinkled. "Not around..?" he asked.

It then occurred to Mark that he hadn't seen any other plainsmen around the settlement, ever since he arrived here. Surely they hadn't all gone and left Lyn behind...?

Lyn hung her head. "The rest of the Lorca tribe is dead," she said quietly. "I'm the only one left."

Mark was stunned. "Oh... I'm so sorry, Lyn... I didn't realize..."

"It's all right." She continued to speak, in a preoccupied tone.

"It happened six months ago... Our settlement was overrun by bandits. They slaughtered so many of my people; my own parents were among the casualties."

"My father was the chieftain of the Lorca; with our people in disarray, I tried to lead our tribe, but they wouldn't listen to a young girl..."

Lyn wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. "Excuse me, I just can't help crying..."

"Don't worry about it," Mark reassured her. "Go right ahead."

The plainswoman then managed to compose herself. "Thank you for listening," she told him. "I've been living by myself for so long, now... It's nice to have company again." Lyn gave him a sad smile.

Mark smiled back at her. "Don't mention it. It's the least I could do; after all, you saved my life."

He then looked down at his feet. "I guess I should be going, now... I wouldn't want to impose on you any longer."

"Oh? Where are you headed?" asked Lyn. "Any particular place?"

Mark shrugged sheepishly. "Nowhere in particular, actually... When I came out here, all I really I wanted to do was explore as much of the West, as possible."

Lyn nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, then..." She looked hesitant for a moment, then went on.

"Um, Mark, I was wondering... Would you let me travel with you? I'm tired of being alone here, wondering what I could've done to protect my tribe... I want to go out into the world and become stronger."

"You're asking if you can come with me?" asked Mark, his eyes wide. "I should be the one doing the asking, so you can protect me!" He chuckled weakly at this.

Lyn smiled at him. "Then I'll become your bodyguard, Mark."

"I was joking!" he protested. "Um, don't get me wrong, though," Mark added, realizing that he might sound ungrateful. "I would definitely appreciate the company." He then smiled back at Lyn.

The plainswoman's face lit up. "I'm glad you agree," she told him, warmly. She then looked thoughtful.

"Well, if we're going to be travelling together, we should probably make some preparations for the journey. There's an outpost north of here where we can get supplies... But first, I think we should get some rest. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Mark glanced outside. It was indeed approaching sunset, and he was feeling pretty tired... He nodded at Lyn. "That sounds good."

Lyn headed to the entrance of the teepee. "You can sleep in here tonight, Mark. Sleep well!"

Mark nodded back at her, with a smile. As she left, shutting the flap behind her, he then removed his cloak and jacket, took off his hat and his boots, and crawled into the cot.

As he lay there, he found he couldn't fall asleep right away, despite his own weariness; he could only stare bemusedly at the stitched hides of the teepee above him. _I guess I'm still too excited, being out West,_ he thought. Especially after all that had happened...

It had been a strange day, he had to admit to himself. And it would become even stranger tomorrow, when he would be travelling in the company of a plainswoman, who was skilled with the sword...

Finally, sleep overcame him, and Mark lay there, dreaming of adventures in the Wild West.

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

This Fire Emblem Western is a concept that I've been toying with for far longer than I care to admit... I never planned on writing what mostly amounts to a rewrite of the game script, but I got so caught up with idea of it, that I just had to flesh it out. (I will try to add my own unique touches, though.)

As you might've guessed, "El Libre" is Elibe in this AU; it roughly translates to "The Free One" in Spanish. I will be changing a lot of the placenames in this story to fit the new setting (obviously, the Sacramento Plains is supposed to be Sacae, and Bern is now known as Burnt).

It should be also noted that this is not actually set in the U.S., but is heavily inspired by the American Wild West, circa 1880-90s. (El Libre is loosely based on California, in this story.)


	2. Cavalry to the Rescue

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

Chapter 1: Cavalry to the Rescue

The next morning, Mark woke up slowly... When he opened his eyes, he was first disoriented by his surroundings, but then the events of the previous day came back to him in a rush.

After yawning and stretching, he swung his legs off of the cot, and pulled on his boots. Grabbing his hat from beside the bed, he then stepped out of the teepee to look for Lyn.

He found her at the edge of the settlement. It was still very early; the sun was barely above the horizon, yet Lyn already appeared to be hard at work... Noticing Mark, she waved him over.

As he approached, he saw she was digging; as Mark got closer, he realized that she was digging a pair of graves. Beside her, wrapped in cloth, were presumably the bodies of the two bandits she killed yesterday.

"Good morning, Mark," she greeted him, her tone cheerful despite the unpleasant task she was performing. "Sleep well?"

"Um, yes..." replied Mark, trying to avoid looking at the covered bodies. "You should've woken me up... I could've helped you dig the graves."

"Don't worry about it; I figured you could use some rest after your ordeal yesterday." Leaning on her shovel, Lyn pointed to another one propped against a nearby teepee. "You can still help, though; I still need to bury them."

"Sure thing." Rolling up his sleeves, Mark helped Lyn carry the bodies into the graves, then grabbing the other shovel, helped her fill them in with the loosened soil. It was hard work, but the plainswoman had already done most of the labour; after about half an hour, both of the bodies were buried in the dirt.

"Thanks," said Lyn, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "I managed to grab the horses these two left behind... Can you ride a horse, Mark?"

Mark nodded. Back East, most people in the big cities usually rode coaches, but he had actually learned to ride a horse, as well.

"Good. Then we can both ride over to Burning Gulch for supplies; that's the outpost I told you about yesterday. Why don't you get your things and we'll head out? I've got everything else we need ready to go."

"All right, then." Mark headed back to the teepee to get the rest of his things, while Lyn went off to get the horses.

xXx

It was not long after that that Mark found himself riding alongside Lyn, heading north towards the outpost she had mentioned earlier.

Mark soon realized that he'd have to get used to riding for long periods of time... Riding for a couple of hours a day was nothing compared to spending an entire day on horseback; Mark had a sneaking suspicion he'd be feeling sore in unmentionable places, tonight...

Still, he felt the passing scenery more than made up for it; just being surrounded by the waving, grassy plains of the Wild West filled him with a euphoria, of sorts.

As they rode, the two discussed about what supplies they might need, and other such idle chitchat; after a while, Lyn decided to ask Mark about something a bit more personal.

"So Mark, tell me a bit about yourself..." she began. "You said you were from a big city back East, is that right?"

He nodded. "That's right."

Mark then found himself telling her about everything; his studies in history, his love of all things Western, even his heading out West in search of a teaching job and against his parents' wishes. Lyn listened attentively.

He had just finished telling her about boarding the train heading to El Libre, when he trailed off, lost in thought.

"You probably think I'm a spoiled kid, running away from home," he told her, looking sheepish.

"Oh, I don't know," replied Lyn. "It's a fine thing to have a dream, and you tried hard to try to achieve it, all by yourself. Besides, it sounds like you felt trapped... You just wanted to break free from that, am I right?"

Mark's jaw dropped. Lyn had just put into words, his exact feelings on the entire affair. "How... How did you know?"

Lyn gazed into the distance. "I'm not sure myself... Instinct, perhaps. Perhaps it is because I am from the plains... There is a sense of freedom here that I don't believe I'd be able to find anywhere else."

Mark followed her gaze. There were golden plains as far as the eye could see; he was suddenly overcome with a feeling of tranquility.

"I think you're right," he said quietly.

Lyn then looked thoughtful.

"You know, that still doesn't explain why you were by yourself on the plains," she mused. "What were you doing out there all alone?"

Mark would've stopped dead in his tracks, if he hadn't been riding. He didn't know what to tell her, and he was too ashamed to admit the truth... How could he tell this noble warrior woman that he had run away from danger like a coward, and nearly died from it, despite that?

Fortunately for him, Lyn misinterpreted his stunned silence.

"It's all right if you don't want to tell me," she reassured him. "There's some things that people just don't want to talk about, and I can respect that."

She then smiled at him. "I just hope one day you'll trust me enough to tell me."

"Um, thanks Lyn," he replied weakly. Her sympathy only made Mark feel worse. _Someday, I hope I'll have the courage to tell you what really happened, Lyn..._ he thought to himself.

After this exchange, the two fell silent, as Mark was preoccupied with his guilt for some time. In fact, he was so lost in thought, that he didn't realize that they had arrived at their destination.

As they rode through the gate, Mark finally noticed his surroundings; as he looked around in surprise, Lyn beamed and swept an arm in front of her.

"Well, Mark... Welcome to Burning Gulch outpost, the largest settlement in the Sacramento Plains!"

Mark could tell at a glance that the cities back East could encompass this town many times over, but he didn't have the heart to tell Lyn that... Still, the place was impressive-looking; obviously intended to be a military outpost, the entire town was surrounded by wooden palisades, made out of sharpened logs.

Yet Mark was in for a bigger surprise when he stepped inside the town... As soon as he entered, he was amazed to see both natives and settlers calmly going about their business; trading, hawking their wares, or just walking around town.

"Amazing..." mused Mark, aloud. "An outpost where both natives and settlers alike can work side-by-side together, in peace."

Lyn smiled at him affably. "Yes, it is nice, isn't it?" Her gaze then moved up towards the soldiers patrolling atop the wooden palisades, and her expression darkened slightly. "I don't know why the cavalry has to occupy the town, though..."

Mark shifted uncomfortably at this. As a student of history, he knew that the relationship between Lyn's people and the cavalry hadn't always been so peaceful.

After a moment, Lyn seemed to shake off her dark mood. "Well, we should probably be able to buy all the supplies we need, right here... Shall we split up, to find what we're looking for?"

Mark nodded. They had agreed earlier that Lyn should purchase most of the supplies, since she knew the going price of most items; Mark had even given her some of his cash, to supplement her own funds.

Still, there were a few things that Mark knew he needed to buy... A map of the area, for instance. Lyn might know her way around, but he still didn't want to be caught lost in the wilderness again.

He found what he was looking for in the local general store. Although the map looked rather worn, it did seem pretty accurate... On it, Mark could locate the city of Burnt, where his train was supposed to stop; the Sacramento Plains, where they currently were, and even the town he was in.

Satisfied, he paid the storekeeper for the map, and a couple of other purchases, as well.

As he exited the store, Mark saw Lyn in the distance, weighed down with various goods, so he headed towards her... While he did so, he inspected the map a little further.

Upon closer examination, the map seemed to be one of the entire territory of El Libre... The city of Burnt was located to the southeast, within the heart of the Burnt Wastelands; to its north, was the aforementioned Sacramento Plains. To the west of that, was a series of canyons called Atlas Ridge; to the south of there, lay the county called La Sienna, which appeared to have many major cities marked off in stars: Austin City, Phoenix Rise, Sierra...

He was currently looking at a village at the base of a mountain known as Wind Serpent Peak, when he heard a cheerful voice ahead of him.

"Well, shoot! Ain't you the prettiest li'l thing that I ever laid eyes on?"

Mark looked up, to see a cavalryman on horseback addressing Lyn. He might've been impressed at this, his first glimpse of a real cavalry soldier up close, if the latter hadn't been hitting on Lyn.

Lyn didn't seem particularly impressed, either. "Excuse me?" she replied coolly.

The cavalryman just grinned and tipped his hat at her. "I don't suppose you could tell me your name, li'l missy? Or offer me the pleasure of your company?"

Lyn tossed her head haughtily. "Shouldn't a soldier have more discipline? Where are you from, anyways?"

Despite Lyn's frosty demeanour, it didn't seem to faze the man one bit.

"Thought you'd never ask, ma'am! I came here all the way from the plains of La Sienna; the town of Sierra, to be exact. Home of the rootin'est, tootin'est cowpokes around!"

Lyn arched an eyebrow, in reply. "Don't you mean 'pigs in a poke?'"

At this, the cavalryman looked sheepish. "Aw, don't be like that, li'l darlin'..."

Ignoring him, Lyn spun on her heel, just in time to meet Mark's gaze. "Come on, Mark," she addressed him, under clenched teeth. "I have nothing more to say to this... This... So-called soldier."

"Wait!" cried out the cavalrymen, in dismay. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I..."

"Sain! What's going on here?" asked a severe voice.

Mark found himself looking back, to see another mounted cavalryman join his fellow soldier... Because of their identical navy blue and gold uniforms, there wasn't much to identify one from the other, except for the new soldier's red hair and red scarf tied around his neck; his companion, on the other hand, wore a green scarf.

"Hey Kent, ol' pardner!" The soldier called Sain greeted the newcomer in a pleasant drawl. "What's with the long face? You look more ornery than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!"

"And why do you reckon that's so, Sain?" answered the other cavalryman hotly. "We're still on duty... And you know we have orders to follow!"

"Sorry, Kent. You know, I just can't resist a pretty face..."

"No foolin'. It's gonna be the death of me..."

Lyn placed her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, you two..." As both soldiers looked down at her, she glared at each one, in turn. "I hate to interrupt your little conversation, but you're blocking our way. If you two could kindly move your horses?"

"Certainly, ma'am. My apologies," replied the red-headed soldier politely. Both soldiers led their horses aside, allowing Lyn and Mark to pass them by.

Lyn then gave a curt nod to the cavalryman who had addressed her. "Thank you, sir... You, at least, seem to have some manners."

As she said this, the cavalryman gave her a long, hard stare. "Pardon me, ma'am," he began slowly, "but haven't I met you somewhere before?"

Lyn raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

At this remark, the other soldier couldn't seem to resist butting in. "Hey! C'mon, Kent, I saw her first!"

"Well!" Lyn sniffed to herself. "It seems no one in the cavalry can be trusted, can they? Come on, Mark... I've just about had my fill of these two!" She stormed off, with a reluctant Mark trailing behind her.

"Wait!" protested Kent. "That's not what I meant!"

As the two civilians walked out of earshot, Kent found himself turning on his fellow soldier, in anger. "Now look what you've done!"

Sain stared back at him. "What did I do? I was just sayin' I saw her first..."

"That's not the point! I reckon that... She might be the one we're lookin' for."

Sain's eyes widened. "What, her? Kent, you're pullin' my leg, ain't ya?"

"Come on, we have to tail her!" Kent quickly clicked his heels to his horse's sides, and started to ride out of town.

"Whoa, are you sure about this?" asked Sain. It was then that he noticed his fellow soldier was riding away.

"Hey, hold up there, pardner!" he cried out, as Sain urged his horse forward to catch up to his friend's lead.

xXx

"Honestly! Can you believe the nerve of those two!" stormed Lyn, as they rode away from Burning Gulch. "It's like I said before; you can't trust the cavalry!"

"I don't know," replied Mark, in a skeptical tone. "I don't think that other soldier was actually flirting with you... It was almost if..." He paused in thought. "He recognized you, or something."

Lyn snorted in disgust. "How would he recognize me? I've lived with the Lorca all my life!" She shook her head. "Come on, let's just get out of here, in case they follow us."

"Uh..." began Mark slowly. "I think it's too late for that..."

He turned his head. As Lyn followed his gaze, she could see a cloud of dust trailing them, an obvious sign that a group on horseback was on their tail.

Lyn's eyes widened. "It isn't those two cavalrymen again, is it?"

Mark shaded his eyes as he looked behind him. "I don't think so... There's far too many of them... And I don't think we've done anything to warrant a whole cavalry unit after us!"

His companion's expression hardened. "I wouldn't be too sure of that..." She then risked another glance over her shoulder, and her eyes narrowed.

"No, I'm afraid it's worse... Bandits!" She had just made out the bandanas pulled over their mouths, and sensed their murderous intent.

Immediately, Lyn clicked her heels to her horse's side; Mark quickly followed her lead.

"Faster, Mark! They're gaining on us!" she cried out.

But it was no use; it was too late. In no time at all, the group of bandits had caught up to Lyn and Mark, and had them surrounded.

The pack of bandits encircling the two then parted briefly, as a single one, obviously their leader, rode up to them.

"Well, ain't you a pretty little thing," he leered, as he paced his horse around Lyn. "You're Lynette Windrunner, ain't ya?"

"How... How do you know that name?" gasped Lyn. "Who are you?"

"That's none of your concern, li'l lady," the bandit sneered, "since you're about to die..."

Nervously, Mark drew his horse closer to the plainswoman, who had drawn her sabre with a grim expression.

"Mark... There's too many of them for me to handle by myself," she admitted to him softly. "But I'll do my best to protect us." Lyn brandished her sword. "As soon as there's an opening, you ride away, all right?"

Mark's eyes widened. "I can't just leave you here, all alone!"

"Don't argue!" she snapped.

"But--"

Suddenly, the blaring of a trumpet call filled the desert air, catching both parties off-guard, and distracting the bandits momentarily.

"It's the cavalry come after us!" quaked one of the bandits, fearfully. Their leader smacked him on the shoulder, in disgust.

"Don't be such a fool! There's only two of 'em; we can take 'em!" he snarled.

Mark and Lyn looked up, and recognized the cavalrymen they had run into earlier in Burning Gulch; the one in the green scarf was playing a charge in his bugle as he rode, with his redheaded companion hot on his heels.

As the bandits milled around in confusion, both cavalrymen quickly manoevered their horses in front of the civilians, in a protective fashion.

"Gangin' up on this sweet li'l lady?" snapped the green-scarfed soldier at the outlaws. "You're just a bunch of yellow-bellied cowards!"

Lyn stared at the cavalrymen in surprise. "You two again? But why--"

"No time to explain that now, ma'am," replied the redheaded soldier briskly. "Stand back! We'll take care of these outlaws."

"No! This is my fight!" protested Lyn, raising her sword. "I won't be indebted to any cavalryman!"

"Listen, li'l missy," pointed out the other soldier, "we can't just stand by and do nothin', ya hear? We're the cavalry! We're supposed to charge in to the rescue!"

As the plainswoman stubbornly set her jaw, Mark gave her sleeve a tentative tug. "Uh, we could use the help," he told her. "We are greatly outnumbered, and they are trained for this sort of thing, you know..."

The redheaded soldier appeared to overhear this exchange. "Well, if you won't listen to us, then would you listen to your friend?" he queried, turning his attention to Mark.

"Huh?" said Mark, somewhat caught off guard.

"You look like a clever fellow," observed the soldier. "Sain and I would be obliged to follow both your orders." He then glanced back at Lyn. "I'm Kent, by the way. Would you let us help out, now, ma'am?"

Lyn paused for a moment, then sighed. "All right, then," she agreed, ignoring Mark's look of dismay. "You two follow our lead. Now, let's get those bandits!"

This was easier said than done, as the outlaws had scattered during their brief exchange, once they had realized that the odds were a little more even, now.

"What in tarnation...?" exclaimed Sain. "Where did those bandits run off to?"

"I reckon they're waitin' to ambush us out in the wild," mused Kent. "And they know the lay of the land around here better than we do."

"Hmmm... I might be able to do something about that," said Mark. Reaching into one of his saddlebags, he pulled out a short, metallic tube.

"What's that?" asked Lyn.

"A telescope," explained Mark politely, as he extended the device. He mentally thanked himself for bringing the item with him, though he never thought it'd be used for this purpose...

Gazing into the spyglass, Mark carefully scanned the surrounding area for a few moments, then spoke up again.

"Looks like five bandits total," he reported to the others. "And I suspect their leader is hanging back on the other side of the river; upstream, I believe."

"Why do you reckon he's the leader?" asked Sain, curiously.

"He was the one who seemed to recognize Lyn, earlier," explained Mark. "And I remembered the clothes he was wearing."

"That makes sense," agreed Kent.

"The closest bandit should be straight ahead of us," continued Mark, trying to keep his voice steady. "If all three of you sneak up on him, you might be able to catch him off guard."

"We hear ya!" Sain tossed him a friendly salute, and he and Kent rode off towards the location of the first bandit.

As the cavalrymen rode ahead, Mark leaned towards his companion.

"Psst, Lyn..." Mark whispered to her, nervously. "You do know I'm just a student of history, right? I've never, um, led people into battle, before..."

"You're doing fine," Lyn assured him. "Didn't you just tell me that you loved studying the history of wars, and their tactics?"

"Yes..." he replied, sounding worried. _But reading about it and actually doing it, are two completely different things,_ he thought to himself.

Still, under Mark's careful direction, the bandits were slowly flushed out of hiding by the group. They hit a couple of snags while doing so...

Sain had been using an ineffective lance against the first bandit that he had come up against. After an argument with Kent in which Sain had sheepishly explained that he had broken his old sword in a previous battle, a disgruntled Kent handed Sain his extra blade, in order to fight the other bandits.

Shortly after that incident, another small argument broke out between the two (Mark began to wonder how the two soldiers ever got anything done)...

This time, Sain had nearly been jumped by another bandit in the woods; he then received an impromptu lecture from Kent on how enemies could use cover to dodge attacks.

Despite the constant bickering between the two, Mark got the impression that both soldiers genuinely respected each other, despite their differences in opinion and personality.

Meanwhile, Lyn had just returned to check on Mark, who had been watching both of their horses; she had just dispatched one of the bandits with her sword.

"Those two are pretty good fighters," commented the plainswoman, as they observed the two cavalry soldiers in battle.

"Well, it is their job," pointed out Mark.

Lyn frowned. "Yeah, but still..." She called out to one of the cavalrymen, after they had finished combat.

"You there! Sain, is it?"

Realizing that he was being addressed by a lady, Sain turned to tip his hat at Lyn.

"At your service, darlin'!" he grinned. "What can I do you for?"

She pointed at a cut on his arm. "You're hurt, aren't you? Aren't you going to do something about it?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty li'l head about me, missy... I can take care of myself." He winked at her, causing Lyn to raise an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" She held up a small earthenware pot. "Well, I was going to hand you some of my healing salve for your wounds, but since you don't need it..." She turned away.

Sain's face fell. "Whoa there, li'l missy! My momma taught me never to refuse a gift from a lady. I'll take the salve, with my compliments, ma'am."

Mark watched as Lyn handed over the salve to Sain (with some reluctance on Lyn's part, he thought).

"Ain't you the li'l angel of mercy?" he gushed at her. "Much appreciated, darlin'!"

"A simple 'thank you' would be enough..." Mark heard Lyn murmur, as she walked back towards him.

Pretending he didn't overhear Lyn's comment, Mark took out his spyglass, to double-check the positions of the remaining bandits; he then turned to the plainswoman.

"Two left, across the river," he told her. "One downstream, with their leader upriver."

"All right, then," replied Lyn. She signalled the two cavalrymen, who rode over to them. "Mark says there are two bandits left, across the river. I'll take the one upstream, past the left bridge, while you two take the one downstream."

Kent's brow wrinkled. "Didn't your friend say earlier that the leader was hidin' up the river? I reckon that Sain and I should take care of him, instead."

Lyn's eyes narrowed. "I thought you said you'd accept our orders without question, Kent... Or should I not trust the word of a cavalryman?"

Kent's jaw dropped, then he hung his head. "You're right... My apologies, ma'am. We'll do as you say." At his reaction, Lyn looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh..." she told him.

Kent shook his head. "You had every right to, ma'am. I'm a man of my word, and as a soldier, I am obliged to follow orders to the letter."

Lyn looked surprised at this. "My, you are a very dedicated soldier, aren't you, Kent...?"

The cavalryman met her gaze steadily. "Yes indeed, ma'am."

There was a pause as the two stared at each other, until Mark decided to break the moment, by clearing his throat.

"Perhaps we should get going...?" he pointed out, timidly. "Otherwise, the bandits that are left might get away..."

Lyn shook her head, in order to clear it, while Kent turned away, seemingly embarrassed.

"You're right, Mark," said Lyn. "Let's get going."

xXx

Kent and Sain rode down alongside the river, while Mark followed Lyn upstream until they reached the bridge.

"You wait here with the horses, Mark," Lyn told him. "I'll go take care of the lead bandit." He nodded, trying not to look worried.

As Lyn walked warily across the bridge, Mark pulled out his telescope to watch her fight.

The bandit leader didn't seem to see her, at first; he was staring down river, and Mark wondered if he was concerned about the involvement of the cavalry... But as soon as Lyn approached him, he finally noticed her; pulling out his axe, he charged to attack.

Once again, Mark found himself impressed by the plainswoman's speed; she was able to dodge most of the bandit leader's attacks, although she seemed to wear herself out doing so.

As Lyn managed to strike the killing blow, Mark immediately grabbed both horses and rode across the bridge.

As soon as he reached the plainswoman, Mark dismounted. "Are you all right, Lyn?" he asked, crouching over her, in concern.

She nodded wearily, as she leaned against her sword. "I'm fine... A bit winded, but fine."

Mark looked relieved. Just then, the two cavalry soldiers rode up to them.

"Are you folks all right?" asked Kent.

Mark nodded. "We're both fine. Did you two find that other bandit?" he asked them.

Sain saluted. "Yep. Kent took care of that last snake in the grass."

Mark wiped his forehead. "Thank goodness... I can't believe we all got out of that alive," he gasped, breathing a sigh of relief.

xXx

"Thanks for the help, you two," Lyn told the cavalrymen, as she and Mark mounted up.

"Don't mention it, li'l lady," grinned Sain.

"I reckon we should introduce ourselves properly, now that that's all sorted out," said Kent. "My name is Kent Morgan, and my partner here is Sain Steele... As you know, we're both soldiers in the cavalry, but we were actually sent out here from our outpost in Sierra."

"Sierra?" asked Mark. "But that's over in the next county, isn't it? What are you two doing way out here?"

"We have orders to go and find someone," explained Sain.

"Find someone...?" began Lyn slowly.

Kent nodded. "We're lookin' for a Miss Madeline, who ran off with a plainsman several years ago."

Mark noticed Lyn's eyes widen, as Kent continued his explanation.

Apparently, both cavalrymen were sent by the Mayor of Sierra himself, in search of his daughter, Madeline. Madeline had been the Mayor's only daughter; heartbroken that she would leave him in such a manner, he eventually disowned her.

According to Kent, the Mayor had just recently received a letter from Madeline, saying that she, her husband and her daughter were living happily on the Sacramento Plains.

"You should've seen the look on his face, ma'am, when he found out he was a grandfather," interrupted Sain, with a grin. "I've never seen the Mayor look so happy before!"

Kent nodded again, then fixed Lyn with a penetrating gaze. "His granddaughter's name is Lynette... And that just happened to be the name of the Mayor's late wife, who died at a young age."

"Lynette..." said Lyn softly.

"It was his granddaughter's name that let the Mayor forgive his daughter," explained Sain. "He was hopin' that he could meet his daughter's family just once, but..."

The soldier trailed off, as Kent shook his head, sadly.

"We only learned shortly after we arrived at Burning Gulch that Miss Madeline died just after she wrote that letter."

"But we also heard that her daughter was still alive, and livin' all by her lonesome on the plains," added Sain.

Kent continued to stare at Lyn, who had been avoiding his gaze.

"I reckoned I knew who you were the moment I saw you... You're Lynette Windrunner, aren't you?"

Lyn looked up, to meet his eyes. "Wha... What makes you say that?"

"Let's just say that you look a lot like your mother, ma'am," explained Kent.

"You mean... You've met my mother?" asked Lyn, in surprise.

Kent tugged at his hat sheepishly. "'Fraid not, miss... But I do recall seeing photographs of her in the Mayor's office."

"Only my mother and father ever called me Lynette," said Lyn softly, mostly to herself. "The rest of the tribe always called me Lyn."

"I thought that I had lost everyone that I held dear to me. But now... I have a grandfather? It's almost too much for me to take in, at once..." Mark and the cavalryman could only gaze at her with quiet sympathy.

"Hold on!" she blurted out, suddenly. "That bandit leader also knew that my name was really Lynette!"

"But... How could that be?" asked Mark. "Didn't you just say that only your family knew you by your full name?" The cavalrymen exchanged a knowing glance.

"He must've be one of Lundgren's hired thugs," growled Sain. "That no-good sidewinder!"

"Who's Lundgren?" asked Lyn.

"He's the Mayor's younger brother," explained Kent. "With your mother gone, everyone thought that he'd inherit your grandfather's money and land. But with you being Madeline's daughter and all, now you'd stand to inherit the entire family fortune."

"M-m-me?" Lyn stammered. "But I'm not interested in that sort of thing!"

"I reckon that Lundgren doesn't believe that, ma'am," said Sain, grimly. "That's why we're here... To protect you."

"You should come back with us, to Sierra," added Kent. "It just ain't safe for you to be travelling alone."

Lyn cast a worried gaze at Mark. "Give me a moment to think about this, all right?" she told the cavalrymen.

Kent opened his mouth to protest, but Sain nudged him, causing him to fall silent.

"Take your time, ma'am," said the soldier, tipping his hat respectfully.

Lyn took Mark aside, and spoke in a low voice. "What do you think, Mark? Should we go with them?"

Mark shook his head at her. "This should be your decision, Lyn. It's your family we're talking about here."

"I promised to protect you, though," she protested. "It'll be more dangerous if you come with us..."

"I'd probably be safer travelling with you and two cavalrymen rather than by myself," pointed out Mark, wryly. When Lyn opened her mouth to object, he then added, with a sigh, "But if you're asking my opinion, I think you should go with them, too."

"But... You are coming with us, right?" she asked him, in a worried tone.

Mark was surprised by her question. "If you'll have me, sure... I'd be happy to come with you."

Lyn seemed relieved at his answer. "Thanks, Mark."

The plainswoman then turned back to Kent and Sain. "All right, I'll come back to Sierra with you two... But on one condition: that you protect my friend, as well as myself."

Kent nodded. "Of course, ma'am."

Sain tipped his hat at her. "Happy to oblige."

Mark found himself blushing at this. "That really isn't necessary, Lyn..." he stammered.

"It's part of our job, sir," pointed out Kent.

Sain grinned at Mark. "Don't worry about it, kiddo."

_Kiddo?_ thought Mark, rather annoyed. _I'm twenty years old!_ He began wishing (again) that he didn't look so young (or short) for his age...

His mood then brightened, as Mark saw Lyn's eyes sparkle with more enthusiasm than he had ever seen before.

"Well, then... What are we waiting for, boys?" she asked them. "Let's head to Sierra!"

"To Sierra!" cheered Sain. Lyn's excitement seemed to have infected him as well, as he reared his horse up on two legs.

Then the four rode off, heading southwest to Sierra... And towards Lyn's destiny.

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

First off, please don't kill me for Sain's accent. XP (Although, I have been told that it is reminiscent of Sain's odd speech patterns in the original Japanese, so I'll just have to take their word for it. ;)

Oh, and in case anyone is curious about which placename refers to what location, here's a quick guide: Burning Gulch - Bulgar; Atlas Ridge - Etruria, La Sienna - Lycia; Austin City - Ostia, Phoenix Rise - Pharae, Sierra - Caelin.

(If you're wondering how I got Sierra from Caelin, it was actually inspired by the original translation, which was "Ciaran"; in fact, it is still written like that on the official map of Elibe!)


	3. Communing with the Spirits

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

Chapter 2: Communing with the Spirits

And so, Mark found himself now riding in the company of a plainswoman and as well as two cavalry soldiers... It was a strange yet exhilarating feeling, as he was now living out one of his cherished childhood fantasies. He looked over their new companions with an assessing eye.

If there was anybody who had the word "cowboy" written all over him, Sain Steele would be that person, thought Mark. With his charming drawl and easy-going nature, he was the very definition of the Wild West in Mark's mind; in fact, it was a bit of a mystery to him why such a free spirit would join the cavalry in the first place. Then again, Mark thought wryly, he probably figured he could impress the ladies with his uniform.

Kent Morgan, on the other hand, was as steadfast a soldier as one could ever hope for. There was no doubt in Mark's mind that Kent would be marked for promotion someday, probably in the near future. With his dedication to duty, it was quite obvious that he was officer material.

The two cavalrymen together made an odd contrast; Mark idly wondered why they had been partnered with each other, considering their conflicting natures... Then again, the two probably balanced each other out.

He then found himself turning to Lyn... Er, Miss Lynette, he hastily corrected himself. Who would've dreamed that she would be a Mayor's long-lost daughter? It was like a story straight out of one of his dime store novels... Except that he was actually in it.

Mark's train of thought was suddenly cut off, as Lyn reined in her horse; this caused the other three to stop in their tracks, as well.

"Could we stop for a moment, please?" she asked her companions. "There are ruins sacred to my people just east of here... Traditionally, those from my tribe head there at the start of a long journey, to pray for safe passage."

"What a darlin' li'l custom!" exclaimed Sain.

"You know, there are many in El Libre that worship St. Elimine," commented Kent. "But I'm glad to hear that your people still keep up with their own ancient traditions, as well."

Lyn blinked. "I'm surprised to see that you two are so understanding about this..."

"And why wouldn't they be?" asked Mark.

"Because they're in the cavalry..." She trailed off, as she saw curious expressions on the soldiers' faces; Mark leaned over, to whisper to Lyn.

"Isn't that rather unkind?" he pointed out. "Just because they're in the cavalry, doesn't mean they wouldn't respect your people and their customs... That may have been true with the cavalry of the past, but certainly not with those two." At this, Lyn flushed.

"You're right..." she replied, sheepishly. The plainswoman turned.

"I'm sorry for my rude behaviour," she apologized, as she bowed her head to the astonished cavalrymen. "Let's just... Keep heading towards the sacred ruins, all right?"

She then urged her horse ahead of the others, causing them to watch her ride ahead, in dismay.

"Was it something we said?" asked Kent, his brow furrowing.

"No, it's my fault," sighed Mark, mentally cursing himself for his lack of tact. "I'll have a word with her."

xXx

The plainswoman didn't have too much of a head start; it didn't take long before Mark had caught up to her on his horse.

"Lyn! Slow down!" he called out to her retreating back. She stopped her horse then, but didn't turn around, as Mark rode up beside her.

He tried to catch his breath for a moment, then began to speak.

"Look, I'm sorry if I sounded harsh, back there... I was way out of line. You have every right to resent the cavalry, considering the atrocities they did to your people, years ago..."

He trailed off, as Lyn remained silent. Then she said softly,

"That isn't the reason why I resent them."

Mark blinked. "It isn't?"

Lyn continued, in a steady tone. "I don't despise the cavalry for what they've done in the past... I hate them because of what they did in the present."

"The present?" asked Mark. Then his eyes widened. "You don't mean... They're still persecuting your people?"

Lyn shook her head. "No! It's not that. It's just..."

She paused, then went on in a quiet voice.

"My entire tribe was slaughtered by bandits... My family, friends, everyone I had ever known, gone in the blink of an eye." She took a deep breath.

"So, where was the cavalry when my tribe needed them most? Why didn't they come to our rescue? Why weren't they saved...?"

As Lyn trailed off, there were tears in her eyes... There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Mark reached out tentatively, to pat Lyn on the back.

"I... I see." Even Mark felt awkward, as he said those words aloud. Lyn wiped the tears from her eyes, and managed to compose herself.

"Still... You were right, Mark. I shouldn't blame the cavalry for what happened to the Lorca; it was the bandits who slaughtered them." She hung her head. "I guess I just wanted somebody else to blame for their deaths, other than myself..."

Mark looked sympathetic. "I understand now. But you shouldn't blame yourself, either." He gave her an encouraging smile, which she returned, weakly.

"I'm sorry you had to see me act like that," apologized Lyn.

"That's all right," Mark reassured her. "At least now I know the reason why you didn't seem to like the cavalry..."

Lyn nodded slowly. "Yes... But I think I'm past that, now. Acting that way made me just as bad as those who resent my own people, didn't it...? And I should know better, because I have felt that same resentment towards myself." Mark then looked thoughtful for a moment.

"And look at it this way..." he began. "The cavalry did save you, after all; if it wasn't for Kent and Sain, we probably would've been killed by those bandits that attacked us outside of Burning Gulch."

"That's true..." she admitted.

Just then, they heard the pounding of hooves behind them. Lyn and Mark turned, to see said cavalrymen behind them, gazing at them in concern.

"Everything all right with you folks?" asked Sain.

Lyn nodded. "We're fine. Don't worry about it." She gave them both a warm smile.

"We'll be riding back here if you need us, then," said Kent, politely.

The two cavalrymen hung back for a moment, as Lyn and Mark started walking their horses again; then they both followed, at a respectful distance.

Lyn and Mark rode in silence for some time, until the plainswoman decided to speak up again.

"Did I ever tell you that my father was in the cavalry?" she said, suddenly.

Mark shook his head. "No... But now that you mention it, it would explain a lot..."

Lyn raised her eyebrows. "Really? What do you mean?"

Mark pointed to her weapon.

"Your sword. It's a cavalry sabre. It even has the stamp of the cavalry on the hilt-- See the two crossed swords?"

Lyn glanced down at her weapon, and then smiled.

"I should've known you'd notice that, Mark." She then nodded. "Yes, this was my father's sword. He was the one who taught me how to use it."

"I was wondering where you learned the art of the sword," commented Mark. "It didn't strike me as a common weapon among your people."

"My father learned how to wield a sword in the cavalry," she explained. He used to be a plains scout for them; not long after that, he was recruited into military service."

"He was an actual soldier?" asked Mark, looking surprised. "Would that mean... He was stationed in Sierra?"

"I'm not sure..." replied Lyn. "But now that you mention it, he must've been; that's where he said he met my mother." She then looked thoughtful.

"I remember my father telling me that there was a big fuss about him joining the cavalry as a soldier," she said slowly, "but he said he didn't care, and neither did his regiment... He was valued for his skills and for his character, not because of his race."

Lyn hung her head. "My father never had anything bad to say about the cavalry... I should've remembered that."

There was an uneasy pause... Mark tactfully decided to change the subject.

"So, these ruins we're heading to..." he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "What's so special about them?" Lyn seemed grateful at his interest.

"There is a sacred artifact enshrined there," she told him. "A sword, in fact. It is that item that bestows blessings on my people, upon their journeys."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Another sword? Out here on the plains? I thought the people of the plains usually use bows, or spears."

"That's true... But this sword is special. It was brought out here hundreds of years ago."

Mark's eyes widened. "It's that old?"

Lyn nodded and began to explain. "You see, long ago, when the first explorers came to El Libre, they stumbled upon that ancient site. It is said that they were so overwhelmed by the holiness of the place, that all thoughts of conquest left their mind, and they laid down their weapons, peacefully."

"Their leader presented his sword to the head priest at the time, as an offering to the sacred place. That sword has rested there ever since. It's been said that that sword, nicknamed the Man-Cutter by my people, has been blessed by the spirits themselves."

Mark looked impressed. "Wow, that's a pretty amazing story, Lyn." He then paused in thought for a moment. "Strange that such a peaceful weapon should be called the Man-Cutter, though..."

"It is said that that sword had shed much of my people's blood before its owner begged for forgiveness," Lyn told him. "But yes, it is indeed a sword of peace, now."

As they rode past some fields, she continued to speak in a thoughtful tone of voice.

"There are stories that say someone will wield the Man-Cutter for the greater good some day, but they're just that... Stories." The plainswoman shrugged.

Just then, Lyn and her companions were flagged down by a farmhand, who had been tilling the soil nearby. The group stopped in their tracks, as the old farmer walked up to them.

"Pardon me, y'all... You folks headin' to the old ruins?" he asked, as he leaned heavily on his hoe.

"That's right," replied Lyn. "Is there something the matter?"

The farmer nodded. "I saw a band of outlaws headin' that way. My ol' bones tell me that trouble's a'brewin'; I reckon they plan on robbin' the place."

Lyn's eyes widened. "Not the sacred sword!"

The old man nodded again. "I reckon so." He glaced over at Kent and Sain. "I see you got some cavalry with ya; I hope you folks can help 'em out."

With that, the old man slung his hoe over his shoulder, and slowly walked back to the field.

Lyn turned to her friends. "Come on! Let's get over there right away!"

xXx

With a bit of hard riding, it wasn't long before Lyn and her companions had reached the sacred site.

"Is this it?" asked Mark, looking straight ahead. They were close to the base of a sheer cliff, surrounded by trees. Lyn nodded.

Mark pulled out his trusty telescope and pointed it at the top. Sure enough, he could see some ancient ruins up there, crumbling with age... As well a band of bandits, climbing upwards.

Lyn glanced over at Kent, who looked preoccupied, at the moment. "Something wrong, Kent?"

Kent nodded, his expression grim. "I don't think we can ride our horses up that cliff, Miss Lynette. It's too steep. They might slip and break a leg; or worse, we could break our own necks, doing so."

"Well, there is a path that leads to the front entrance," replied Lyn.

"Won't the bandits see us coming, though?" asked Mark, looking worried.

Lyn frowned. "Hmm, good point. What do you think we should do then, Mark?"

Mark looked thoughtful. Just then, Sain pointed into the distance.

"Looks like there's few farmhouses to the south," he said. "I reckon we could ask them for some advice, since they know their way around these parts."

"Great idea, Sain!" exclaimed Lyn, causing Sain to beam in pleasure.

Mark tried not to feel too hurt that he didn't think up that idea first, especially since it made Sain so happy... He then scouted the area to the south with his telescope.

"Looks like there's three houses over there," he added. "Two close by, and one further south."

"All right, then. Let's split up and each head to a house," said Lyn. "Mark and I can head to the southwest one; Sain, you take the one southeast. Kent, you can go to the one furthest south. Then we'll meet up back here. That sound good to everyone?"

When they all nodded, Lyn exclaimed, "Let's go!"

xXx

They regrouped a few minutes later, at their original position. Kent and Sain were the first to return.

"Hear anything useful?" Kent asked his fellow soldier.

"Nothin'," said Sain, sadly. "And you?" Kent shook his head. Just then, Mark and Lyn returned.

"Did you two find out anything?" Kent asked them.

Lyn nodded, looking pleased. "We sure did. We were told that there's an old side entrance to the ruins not far from here."

"The people living nearby said they stopped using it because there was a rockslide that blocked it off," added Mark. "But I'm hoping that you two can help us get through." He looked embarrassed as he said this.

Kent and Sain exchanged a glance, then looked back at Mark and Lyn.

Kent tipped his hat to them both. "We'll see what we can do," he said politely, as Sain grinned.

xXx

It was several minutes later, when all four of them were near the top of the cliff, hiding behind some trees. They had decided to leave their horses well-hidden, at the bottom of the hill.

It had been quite a climb, especially for Mark, who wasn't used to such exertion; still, it wasn't as bad as the sheer cliff face near the main entrance. They even managed to take care of a couple of bandits who had been patrolling the perimeter of the ruins.

"So... Is this it?" asked Kent, staring at the section of ruins where the other entrance supposedly was.

"I... Think so," answered Mark. He sounded worried, and rightly so.

There was a huge boulder where the side entrance should be.

Sain let out a long whistle. "That's a mighty big rockslide, all right."

Lyn gave the two soldiers a concerned look. "You sure you boys can move that? I don't want you two to strain yourselves."

"We'll do what we can, ma'am," replied Kent, drawing his lance. Sain did the same.

With Lyn watching out for patrolling bandits, Kent and Sain began to attempt to lever out the rock with the tips of their spears.

After some time (far quicker than Mark thought it would take), Kent walked up to Lyn, as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Well, we managed to make a opening just wide enough for all of us to sneak in sideways," Kent told her, breathing heavily.

"Just don't breathe out all sudden-like, if you don't want to get stuck," joked Sain, leaning against his spear.

Kent and Sain entered the opening first, followed by Lyn and Mark. After Sain's joke, Mark was worried that he would indeed get stuck, but he soon realized that the soldiers had made the crack just wide enough for both of them to pass through; since he and Lyn had slimmer bodies, they slipped in with room to spare.

As soon as the two of them had joined the cavalrymen in the passage, Kent placed a finger to his lips, indicating that they should all keep quiet. Lyn nodded in understanding. Carefully picking their way forward in the dim passageway, Mark took the opportunity to look around him.

These ruins did looked pretty old... And by the carvings on the walls, Mark had to guess that the place might be Aztec in origin; indeed, he recalled that when he first saw the building from the outside, it had appeared to be shaped like an ancient pyramid.

Mark was startled out of his reverie, as sounds began to echo throughout the ruins... As he started to pay attention to them, he realized that he was listening to an argument; it sounded like it was getting closer.

The passageway then led out into what looked like the central chamber of the ruin, and the source of the noise. Still in the lead, Kent motioned to the pillars surrounding the room; realizing what he meant, Lyn and Mark hid behind the pillar to their left, while Kent and Sain headed to the one on their right. From those positions, all four were able to observe what was going on, unnoticed.

There was a single bandit standing in the middle of the chamber, watching what was happening at the back of the room; Mark and Lyn couldn't quite see what was going on from where they were standing, though they could hear everything quite clearly.

"Get out of my way, old timer!" growled a rough, unseen voice.

"You can threaten me all you like," replied another voice, frightened but steady, "but I'd never give up the Man-Cutter to the likes of you. It is a sacred sword, blessed by the spirits themselves. I cannot allow it to be moved from this place!"

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Mark noticed Kent signalling to them again; he tugged at Lyn's sleeve, to get her attention. As soon as both Lyn and Mark turned towards him, Kent held up two fingers, indicating that there were still two bandits outside. Lyn nodded again.

Lyn and Mark then shifted to look around the other side of their pillar, to get a better view of what was happening at the back of the room.

Back there, lay a stone altar... Behind it, stood a scruffy bandit in a faded cavalry uniform, menacing a elderly priest in grey robes; Mark could just barely make out the sacred sword, hanging upon the stone wall behind them.

"Old fool! What good is a weapon, if you can't use it?" yelled the bandit.

The old man's eyes widened. "Use it in combat? What sacrilege!"

"I'll do whatever I want, old man! I'm Gus Glass! And if I want that sword, then I'm gonna take it!"

Shoving the elderly priest roughly aside, the outlaw snatched up the Man-Cutter from its resting place on the wall.

"It's magnificent..." he breathed, as he held the sheathed sword in his hands. "This should fetch me a pretty penny, for sure!"

The bandit then tried to draw the sword from the sheath. Realizing that he could not do so, he grabbed the old priest by the collar.

"What kind of trick is this, old man?"

The priest struggled in his grasp. "The Man-Cutter only obeys one master," he gasped. "Not just anybody can draw it. And it would never obey the likes of you!"

"Bah!" The bandit tossed the priest into the wall. The old man slid down it, unconscious. "I'll tear down this miserable place stone by stone for this!" he yelled, as he overturned the altar.

"We can't let him desecrate this place any longer!" whispered Lyn to Mark. He nodded; he couldn't help but agree.

Mark stood back and watched as Lyn quickly charged forward... He also noticed Kent and Sain following her lead, by taking positions near the main entrance, to guard it from the outside patrollers.

Caught off guard, the bandit standing in the middle of the room had little time to react; it was not long before Lyn cut him down with her sword. She then turned to their leader, who was staring at her in disbelief.

"Who do you think you are?" he snarled at the plainswoman.

"I am Lyn of the Lorca," replied Lyn calmly, "and I am the one who is going to defend this sacred place." She pointed the blade of her sword at him, with a resolute look in her eyes.

The bandit sneered at her. "You, li'l girl? Don't make me laugh... You're not even worth my time!" Lyn just glared at him.

Just then, a voice cut in, behind her. "Didn't your momma ever tell you that it ain't polite to make fun of girls?"

Both Lyn and the bandit turned, to see Sain strolling up to them, with his lance slung over his shoulder.

"Now, you don't want to be underestimatin' the li'l lady over here," said the cavalryman, in a deceptively casual voice, "but if you want to fight somebody else, then I'd be more than happy to oblige." He tipped his hat at the bandit, with a dangerous grin on his face.

Lyn frowned at the cavalryman. "Sain, please... I can handle him by myself."

"Oh, I know you can, li'l lady," answered Sain easily. "But I reckon that you have more important things to worry about." He nodded the old priest, who still lay unconscious on the floor.

Lyn's eyes widened, at this; she looked torn for a moment, then hung her head.

"Very well, then," she said, sounding resigned. "I'll leave him to you, Sain."

"I won't let you down, ma'am," he replied, with a smile.

Lyn then ran to the priest's side, in order to check on him; Mark quickly followed her. The bandit snorted, as she moved away.

"It don't matter who I'm fightin'," he snarled. "You don't stand a chance against me!" He drew his sword, and pointed it at Sain.

"We'll see about that, pardner." Sain then nodded at the outlaw's sabre and faded cavalry uniform. "You're former cavalry, ain't ya? Gone AWOL, have ya?"

"What's it to you?" snapped the bandit.

"Oh, nothin'," replied Sain. He then narrowed his eyes. "It's just that I don't care for traitors, myself... 'Specially ones that attack the weak, and wreck up holy places, like this!"

With one swift movement, Sain drew his lance, and charged the bandit, who just managed to dodge the attack, in time.

As he watched them fight, Mark saw that that this bandit was fast on his feet, like Lyn; but Sain had the advantage of strength on his side. Also, the cavalryman's heavy lance seemed to deflect a lot of the bandit's quick sword blows; Mark wondered if this was the real reason why Sain had insisted on fighting him.

Still, the outlaw was extremely fast; despite the fact that Sain had blocked a lot of the sword attacks, there were several shallow cuts showing up on his uniform.

The two fighters had just broke off to circle each other, breathing heavily as they did so... Suddenly, the bandit slashed his blade towards Sain's head; the cavalryman just managed to defend himself, with an overhead block with his spear.

Unfortunately, the bandit had been expecting this... With a nasty grin, he kicked Sain in the midsection; the cavalryman fell back, the wind knocked out of him. Fortunately, the overturned stone altar was just behind him, and he managed to brace himself upon it.

However, the outlaw wasn't done with him yet... Pressing his advantage, he slammed down his sword towards Sain's face again. Sain brought up his lance to block it, but just barely; the blade was now perilously close to the cavalryman's face, as he lay flat against the altar. Lyn and Mark could only watch this, in horror.

"Sain!" Lyn cried out, and reached for her sword. She stopped however, when Sain caught her eye and grinned, despite his predicament.

"Don't worry about me, ma'am," he managed to wheeze out. Then, narrowing his eyes at the bandit, Sain shoved the man back with his lance, as he kicked him off, at the same time.

The bandit reeled away, slamming into the stone wall behind him; as he did so, the back of his head hit the wall. When looked up, dazed, the outlaw had just enough time to watch Sain charging at him with his lance, with a grim expression on his face... That was the last thing he ever saw.

Mark looked away then, but that didn't drown out the bandit's scream of pain; even Lyn seemed to wince a little, at this.

He turned back just in time to see Sain pull his spear out from the impaled corpse; the bandit then slid down the wall, leaving a trail of blood against it.

Mark felt sick. Quickly excusing himself to Lyn, he ran off into the corner, and threw up.

When he had finished emptying the contents of his stomach, Mark walked back to find Sain leaning against the upturned altar, wiping the blood off his lance. The cavalryman glanced up at his pale face, with sympathy.

"Sorry you had to see that, kiddo," he apologized. Sain then spat on the ground beside him. "I hate people who fight dirty," he muttered to himself.

"Don't worry about me," said Mark to him, rather weakly. _I guess I should get used to death, since I'm travelling with a bunch of fighters,_ he thought to himself. _But I don't think I could ever get used to it..._

He then joined Lyn, who had finally managed to revive the unconscious priest; as the old man sat up and groaned, Kent walked up to the rest of them, looking relatively unharmed.

"Well, I took care of both of those bandits outside," he said. "How are you folks doing?"

"We're fine," replied Lyn, breathing a sigh of relief. "And the elder seems to be all right, as well." She then turned to the priest.

"How are you feeling, sir?" Lyn asked, as she helped the old man to his feet.

"I'm all right..." replied the priest. "Thanks to you folks, that is."

His eyes suddenly widened. "The Man-Cutter!" he gasped, aloud. "Is it...?"

"The sword is fine, Padre," replied Sain. The soldier handed the sheathed blade back to the priest, who accepted it gratefully. "Got it off that dirty thief's corpse."

At this, Kent looked sheepish. "Sorry about the mess, Reverend..." he added, glancing at the desecrated altar.

"A small price to pay for the safe return of the sword," said the priest, bowing his head. "Despite their sins, those that have died here today will be in my prayers."

He then turned to Lyn. "I see by your clothing that you are of the Lorca tribe... Am I correct?"

The plainswoman nodded. "That's right. I'm Lyn, the daughter of the chieftain."

"You must have come here to pray for a safe journey. Come then, lay your hands upon the sword and receive the sword's blessing." He held out the sheathed blade to Lyn, who knelt down and placed a hand on the sword.

Mark and everyone else in the room couldn't quite believe their eyes, at what happened next.

Lyn blinked. "Did the sword... Just glow?"

The priest's eyes widened. "I see... Lyn of the Lorca, the Man-Cutter has looked into your soul, and chosen you as its master."

"M-m-me?" stammered Lyn. "It must be a mistake!"

"There is no mistake," the priest told her. "If you wish to see further proof, then try to draw the sword out of the sheath."

Reluctantly, Lyn grasped the hilt of the sword, and pulled. The blade came out easily, with no resistance, and the glow from the Man-Cutter grew even stronger. Lyn gazed at the blade in her hand, in disbelief.

"I can't believe it..." she said softly.

The old priest bowed his head. "I never thought that I would see the bearer of the Man-Cutter in my lifetime," he said to Lyn. "I feel privileged to have met you, Lyn of the Lorca... The sword is now yours."

"What do you mean... Mine?" asked Lyn.

"You are now the owner of the Man-Cutter," the priest told her, "and as such, must live up to its legend. Go forth and do good in its name." He gazed into her eyes deeply. "You have many challenges ahead of you, Lyn of the Lorca... Yet I know you can overcome them."

Lyn lowered her eyes humbly. "I... Thank you, sir."

xXx

After bidding farewell to the old priest, the group left the ruins, somewhat bemused after all that had happened.

"So, that's the Man-Cutter, huh?" commented Sain, gazing at Lyn's new sword. He let out a long whistle. "That's a mighty fine blade you have there, ma'am."

"I still can't believe it..." said Lyn, shaking her head. "This sword is spoken of with reverence among my people, and now, I hold it in my hands..."

"I wouldn't be too surprised," said Mark, thoughtfully. "I've read ancient stories about such weapons, scattered all across El Libre... Weapons that only one person may wield."

Kent nodded. "When I saw you pull out that blade, Miss Lynette... I felt something special. Like it was meant to be yours, I reckon."

"Don't say that!" protested Lyn. "I'm not that special!"

"Why don't you look at it this way, ma'am..." began Sain. "You know how one weapon might feel better in your hand than another one; the grip might be more comfortable, or it's better balanced for you, and suchlike?" Lyn nodded. "Well, it's kind of like that. Does that make you feel any better?"

"I see what you mean, Sain..." said Lyn slowly, then shrugged. "I guess I understand."

"Would you mind if I took a look at the sword, Miss Lynette?" asked Kent.

Lyn nodded, and handed it to the cavalryman... Or at least, tried to. Try as he might, Kent couldn't seem to get a grip on the hilt. Sain tried to hold it as well, with similar results... It was as if there was an invisible force preventing them from touching the hilt, Mark observed.

"Well, that's the darndest thing," said Sain, scratching his head in bewilderment. "I reckon that really is your sword, and only your sword, Miss Lynette."

"A sword only for me..." said Lyn softly. "It seems strange... Yet right, somehow." She then displayed the sword to Mark.

"This is the Man-Cutter, Mark... My sword. I have to take care of it, and live up to its legend." Mark could only gaze at the weapon in quiet awe.

He shook his head, still amazed. _First, I stumble across a lost heiress,_ he thought, _now a magic sword... What's next? Flying horses?_

Mark then chuckled to himself. _What am I thinking? Flying horses in the Wild West? Now, that's just plain silly..._

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

I realize that the battle scenario that I used in the story isn't exactly how it is in the game, but I hope that it is at least plausible...

And if you're interested, here's the list of naming references that I've used so far:

Mark Alexander - Named after Alexander the Great (the reference is directed more to his tactical genius, rather than his conquests).

Lyn (Lynette) Windrunner - Inspired by the country singers Loretta Lynn and Tammy Wynette; Windrunner was originally "Windrider" in one of my previous drafts, but since I use that term later on in the story, it got changed. (Also a reference to my beloved World of Warcraft; after Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, the former Ranger-General of Silvermoon.)

Kent Morgan, Sain Steele - Morgan seems to be a common name in Westerns (it's the name of Wyatt Earp's younger brother, for example); Steele (apart from the obvious "stainless steel" pun) is a reference to a famous Canadian Mountie, Sam Steele.


	4. Rounding Up the Posse

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

Chapter 3: Rounding Up the Posse

As Lyn and her companions rode away from the ancient ruins, they now found themselves accompanied by a powerful new ally... The mystical sword called the Man-Cutter, a blade only spoken of in legends across the Sacramento Plains, and now, in the possession of the plainswoman, Lyn.

Yet despite the acquisition of her powerful new blade, and Lyn's obvious ability to defend herself, Kent insisted that they travel in formation, in order to protect her.

Fortunately (or so Mark thought), Lyn decided not to argue with him... So, now they travelled with Sain riding in front (he insisted on "taking point", as he put it), with Lyn and Mark riding side-by-side in the middle, and Kent bringing up the rear, where he could keep a watchful eye on them all.

Actually, Mark was somewhat grateful for the cavalryman's overprotectiveness, considering what happened to them so far... Also, he appreciated a little time alone with Lyn; there was something he had been meaning to ask her about...

"Excuse me, Miss Lynette..." he began.

"Please don't call me that," pleaded Lyn. "I get that enough from those two; I don't need it from you, as well."

"But you're a Mayor's daughter," protested Mark. "It seems inappropriate to address you just as Lyn..."

"But when you first met me, I was still Lyn, and not a Mayor's daughter... Couldn't we just go back to that? Please?"

Mark paused for a moment. "Very well, then... Lyn," he conceded, a tad reluctantly. Shaking his head, he then pulled out his map from one of his saddlebags.

"Anyways, I've been meaning to ask you about this place..." As Mark unfolded the map, he pointed out a specific area on it. "This village, at the base of Wind Serpent Peak; is it true what they say about it?"

Lyn craned her neck, to examine the map. "About that village in El Rhea? Yeah, it's true," she replied.

"You mean... About the tribe of fierce Amazonian warrior women who live there?" continued Mark eagerly. "I've heard that their steeds are as pure as the driven snow, and are as fleet as the wind..." He then trailed off.

"I apologize," he said, looking sheepish. "I must sound like an enthusiastic young schoolboy to you, don't I...?"

"No, no, I find your enthusiasm kind of refreshing, actually," replied Lyn, as she tried to hold back her laughter. At this, Mark fought back a blush.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you," apologized Lyn. "It's just that... The El Rheans happen to be more like mercenaries, rather than warriors; they tend to form posses and hire themselves out as bounty hunters, more than anything else," she explained.

"Oh. I see," said Mark, still embarassed about his misinformation.

Lyn seemed to sense this. "You were right about the El Rhean horses, though," she told him reassuringly. "I've seen one up close, and their speed and beauty rival any horse from the plains."

Mark brightened up at this. "So, you've actually seen one before?"

Lyn nodded. "In fact, I happen to know one of those 'warrior women' personally," she added.

"Really?" asked Mark, sounding eager once more. "What's she like?"

"Ah, well..." began Lyn slowly, "She's not as fierce as you might think..."

xXx

"Hold it right there, li'l missy! Where do you think you're going?"

In the burnt-out husk of a town just recently razed to the ground, a petite figure gripped the reins of her pure white horse in a protective fashion, as she was menaced by two bandits.

"Please, senor..." said the young girl, in a timid voice. "It was an accident, si?"

"Such a sweet little thing," leered the other bandit. "Shame to let her go to waste..."

"Well, she ran me over with her horse," growled the thug. "And I'm gonna take it out of her hide!"

The other outlaw then turned his attention to the girl's impressive-looking mount.

"So what should we do about her nag?" he asked.

At this, the girl's eyes flared. "Do not lay a finger on him, senor!"

"You watch your tongue, girlie!" snapped the first bandit.

The girl clasped her hands in front of her, and gave the outlaws an imploring look.

"Please, I beg of you... Do not harm him! You can do anything you want to me!"

The first bandit, obviously the leader, gave a short bark of laughter. "Nice try, missy, but everyone knows that El Rhean horses are very rare, and very expensive... They're even worth more than your worthless hide! Now, gimme that horse!"

He made a grab for the reins in the girl's hands, but she just managed to elude his grasp... With one swift motion, she mounted her horse; then clicking her heels to its sides, the girl began to canter away. Cursing loudly, the bandits rode after her, in hot pursuit.

As she desperately tried to outrun them, tears welled up in the young woman's eyes... The only thought in her mind was, "I wish Lyn was here..."

xXx

Meanwhile, Lyn and her companions had just come across a grim scene; an entire town, burned to the ground. The four could only stare blankly at the wanton destruction.

Mark tried not to turn sick at the thought of what had happened here; he was again reminded that although he was fond of the Wild West, it was, in fact, a dangerous place to live in.

"This place is a wreck!" exclaimed Sain, in disgust. "Why doesn't the Marshall 'round here do anything about this sorta thing?"

"There's no law around these parts, I'm afraid," said Lyn quietly. She nodded at a distant mountainside. "That's Mt. Deliverance; I've heard a band of vicious outlaws have their hideout up there." Her voice became distant.

"My village is on the other side of that mountain. Those outlaws... They came at night. In a single night, they nearly wiped out my entire tribe." The eyes of her companions widened as they heard this.

"Lyn..." said Mark softly, feeling a lump form in his throat. She turned to look at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I will never forgive them," she whispered. "Never."

All of them fell silent for a moment... Then Lyn began to speak again.

"Someday, I will return home, stronger than ever..." she declared, looking into the distance. "On that day, I will avenge my people... This, I swear."

As she said this, Kent approached Lyn. "Then I'll be there, if you need me," he told her.

"So will I," added Sain, saluting.

Mark nodded seriously. "Me too."

Lyn blinked, then closed her eyes in gratitude. "Thank you... All of you."

After this declaration, they all rode without speaking for a while... Just then, Mark thought he heard something, at the edge of his hearing.

"Is that a commotion up ahead?" he asked the others, his brow furrowing.

Kent frowned. "I reckon I hear it too," he agreed. "We'd best be on our guard."

Quickly, the group sped up, as they rode past the remains of the town. Mark then caught a blur of white coming towards them at great speed; he noticed Lyn's eyes widen in recognition.

"A white horse?" she said aloud. "It can't be... Florina! Is that really you?"

As the white horse got closer, Mark saw that its rider was a young girl around Lyn's age; she seemed to recognize Lyn, as well.

"Lyn!" she cried out.

Behind the girl, Mark also noticed a couple of toughs chasing after her... However, as soon as they noticed that their victim now had allies, they seemed to change their minds and backed off; still, Mark was certain they were just biding their time, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

He then turned his attention back to Lyn, who had ridden up to the girl on the white horse.

"What on earth are you doing here, Florina?" she asked the girl.

"I cannot believe it is really you, Lyn..." The girl began to sniffle.

"Now, now, don't cry..." Lyn reassured her.

"Miss Lynette? Is this a friend of yours?" asked Kent politely.

Lyn nodded. "Yes, she is. This is Florina Mariposa, a Wind Rider from El Rhea."

As the girl uneasily backed away from the others, the plainswoman then added, "I'm afraid she's a little nervous around men." She turned back to her friend. "Now Florina, please tell us what's the matter..."

The girl called Florina started to speak rapidly with a heavy accent; Mark couldn't quite make out what she was saying, though he thought he could place her accent as being Spanish in origin. After a few moments of this, Lyn held up her hands.

"Florina, please calm down!" she protested. "I'm afraid we can't understand what you're saying."

At this, Florina blushed. After taking a deep breath, she began to speak again, in halting English.

"Well... When I had heard you had left home, Lyn, I came looking for you. I was passing by this town, and was thinking to ask for directions... But I was riding so fast that I did not see these two men, and... Well..."

"You didn't run them over, did you?" asked Lyn, looking worried.

Florina hung her head. "Si... I am so sorry..."

"Did you apologize to them?"

She nodded vehemently. "Si! But they would not listen to me, Lyn... And now they will not leave me alone! They wished to take away Javier and to take me with them!"

Sain shook his head. "Now, that just ain't right!"

Lyn's expression hardened, as well. "Sain's right." She then patted Florina on the back, as the girl's shoulders shook with sobs.

"I don't think that's the end of it either," added Mark, looking grim. He had just lowered his telescope, having just scouted the area around them. "I think we're surrounded; there's nearly ten bandits roaming this area, now."

Lyn's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll have to fight." At this, Florina looked up, as she wiped away her tears.

"Fight? You mean, us?" she inquired.

Lyn nodded, with a determined look in her eyes. "That's right. You're a Wind Rider, aren't you, Florina? You know how to fight!"

Florina's jaw dropped at this, then she nodded slowly. "You are right, of course... I can fight back!"

Lyn smiled at her. "That's the spirit!"

Meanwhile, Mark was examining the layout of the area again with his telescope... There was a tall wooden wall surrounding the remains of the ruined town, separating it from the outlying farmhouses. He nudged Lyn.

"Hey, Lyn," Mark whispered to her. "The walls around this place might prove it difficult to fight around here... But then again, we may be able to use it to our advantage, as well," he added, thoughtfully.

At this, Lyn nodded. Florina then seemed to notice him for the first time.

"Um Lyn?" she asked. "Who are these men you are with?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," apologized Lyn. "This here is Mark; you could say he's our stratagist, of sorts," she said with a smile, causing Mark to blush. "The two cavalrymen are Kent and Sain." At this, the two soldiers saluted at Florina.

After casting an uneasy gaze at the men, Florina then bowed her head politely to them.

"Uh... Nice to meet you all," she told them, in a barely audible voice.

"So... You're a Wind Rider, is that right?" Mark addressed Florina, as he tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

The girl nodded, as she huddled behind her horse. "Si, senor," she replied, while avoiding his gaze. "Though I am just a... How you say? Trainee, si?"

Florina was... Not what Mark had expected, from one of the legendary Wind Riders of El Rhea. When he thought about those "Amazon warriors", as he had mistakenly called them, he imagined someone more like... Well, Lyn. Not someone meek and timid like Florina, who looked like a little girl with her pale, wavy hair, and white dress.

Still, Mark knew he should give Florina the benefit of the doubt. She had the horse, a spear, and presumably the training, as well... Mark set his silly preconceptions of her aside.

"So what kind of numbers do you reckon we're up against?" Kent asked Mark, briskly.

"I believe I counted 4 men with axes, 3 with swords and 2 carrying rifles," reported Mark. "Which reminds me..." He turned to Florina, who flinched at his gaze.

"Florina," Mark said carefully, so not to startle the girl, "can you tell me what the men who threatened you looked like?"

"Um..." Florina looked thoughtful. "Well, one of them had brown hair and a beard..." she said softly. "And he was wearing a red shirt... I am thinking that he might be the leader."

Mark nodded. "Thank you very much, Florina." He then gazed into the distance with his telescope. "I think I see someone fitting that description hiding behind one of the ruined houses," he told them.

At this, Lyn's eyes narrowed. "Good. I'd like to ask that man a question," said the plainswoman, in a cold voice.

Mark found himself exchanging an uneasy glance with Kent, who merely shrugged back at him. Shaking his head, he then looked into his telescope again.

"Hmmm, looks like there's also a small farmhouse just nearby," Mark added, pointing into the distance.

"Is that so?" asked Lyn, as she shaded her eyes and gazed in that direction.

"You're right, Mark. Let's head over there right quick and warn them about the bandits... We shouldn't take long," she told the others. Kent nodded.

xXx

The farmhouse wasn't too far away; it only took a moment for the two of them to reach it, on horseback. However, as soon as they approached the building, a shot rang out.

"Are they attacking us?" asked Mark, as they tried to control their startled horses.

"No, that was a warning shot," replied Lyn, pointing at the ground. "See? The bullet just grazed the ground by my horse's hooves; it was pretty close, though."

"Then they must have very good aim, whoever they are," mused Mark.

As they stopped in their tracks, Lyn addressed the residents of the house.

"Excuse me?" she called out. "Look, we mean you no harm! We just wanted to warn you that there are bandits nearby!"

There was a long pause. At last, the door of the house opened... The nozzle of a rifle then poked out; as the door opened further, it revealed that it was being aimed by a brown-haired boy, in a blue homespun shirt and dusty jeans.

"So, you say you ain't bandits, huh?" asked the boy, without lowering the gun. "Why are you folks trespassin' here, then?"

Lyn held her hands up, in a peaceful gesture. "My name is Lyn. My companions and I were just riding through, when we noticed a gang of outlaws nearby, which we're planning to get rid of; we just thought we should let you all know."

"If you could help warn the people around here about the danger, we'd really appreciate it," added Mark politely.

"Is that so?" replied the boy. He slowly lowered his rifle. "Well, you seem like decent folks..." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.

"Listen, I'm actually not from around these parts, either," he began. "But the folks 'round here have been good to me, and I want to return the favour."

He then grinned. "The name's Wil Bartlett. I'm a pretty good shot, if I do say so myself... Let me help you take care those bandits."

Lyn returned the smile. "Sure thing, Wil. We could always use an extra hand."

Mark looked over their new recruit with an assessing eye. Despite his tough guy act earlier, Wil gave off the impression of a good-natured, country boy; he even wore cowboy boots, and a dark bandana tucked under his collar.

After a quick conversation with the people in the house, and a borrowed horse from the barn, Wil was ready to go... They then rode back to the rest of their companions.

"How's it going?" asked Lyn, as she reached the others.

"They ain't budged since you folks have been gone," reported Kent.

"I hope we make our move soon, then," muttered Sain. "I reckon we're being watched, and I'm itchin' to get rid of that feeling."

"Don't worry, we'll fight back soon enough," reassured Lyn.

Just then, Florina rode up to them.

"Lyn, you've returned!" she exclaimed happily. Then her expression changed, to one of fear. "Behind you! There is a boy with a rifle!"

"What?" Startled, Lyn looked around. Then she realized the source of Florina's distress, and smiled. "Oh, don't worry about him. That's just Wil. He offered to help us out."

"Howdy there!" Wil greeted Florina cheerfully.

When she only stared at him with wide eyes, he leaned over to whisper to Lyn.

"A bit shy, ain't she?"

"Sorry about that, Wil," apologized Lyn. "Florina's not used to being around men; she's actually a Wind Rider in-training from El Rhea."

Wil then nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah, I reckon I understand, now... El Rhean horses can't handle shots from rifles, ain't that right?"

"That's right, I read about that somewhere," mused Mark. "El Rhean horses are very fast, but that's only because their bone structure is so light... So, one well-aimed shot could shatter their bones instantly." At this, Florina shuddered.

At her reaction, Mark looked sheepish. "I must apologize. I really shouldn't have brought that up..."

Florina hung her head. "It is all right... I am sorry too. It's just that I am so afraid of rifles, that I don't even like to be looking at them..." She averted her gaze from Wil.

"Aw shucks, don't fret none, ma'am." The rifleman tried to meet her gaze. "Just remember that you have nothin' to fear from me," he told her, honestly. "I swear that I won't fire my rifle anywhere near your horse."

Florina raised her eyes to look at Wil, then lowered them again. "I... I thank you, senor," she replied, in a soft voice.

After she had said this, Mark cleared his throat.

"Um, Florina... Do you mind if I have a word with you?" he asked her, nervously.

At this, Florina gave Lyn an uneasy glance, but the plainswoman gave her a reassuring nod. She walked her horse up to Mark.

"How can I help you, senor?" she asked, in a meek tone.

"Florina," he asked her carefully, so not to frighten her, "is it true that El Rhean horses can leap over most obstacles, and are so surefooted that they can climb over whatever they can't jump?"

Florina raised her chin proudly, at this. "That is correct."

"Would you be able to jump the fence that runs around the town, then?" Mark pointed to the wooden fence in the distance, which was far too sheer for any of them to climb, and too high for a normal horse to jump over.

"Si, senor."

"All right, then... Florina, I would like to ask you to jump over that fence to the north, then head over to the other farm up there and warn them about the bandits." Florina nodded, and turned to ride off.

"Is there anything else, senor?" she asked politely.

"Um..." Mark looked sheepish, then went on.

"Well... I was wondering if you could also lead one of the bandits away from the others... I understand if you don't want to, though," he added hastily.

The girl paused in thought. "I... I think I can do that..."

At this, Mark looked relieved. "Just keep him away as best as you can, then. And make sure only one of them sees you, all right? I don't want you to put yourself in any danger, Florina."

She nodded. "I understand, senor."

As Florina started to ride off into the distance, Kent addressed Mark.

"What would you like the rest of us to do?" asked the soldier respectfully.

Before Mark could respond, Lyn answered for him.

"We'll fight our way back into the ruined town," she said, with a determined look in her eyes. Mark shrugged, and nodded in agreement.

As the others started to work their way through the rest of the bandits, Mark decided to hang back and keep an eye on Florina.

Despite the fact that he knew that Florina was a fighter, and therefore, must be able to take care of herself, Mark found it hard not to worry about her, considering her timid personality.

Riding behind the rest of the group, he pulled out his trusty telescope, and turned it towards the other farmhouse.

He had focused on her just in time to watch Florina soar over the high wooden fence separating the two farms, on her steed. Mark was impressed. So, the prowess of El Rhean horses was true, after all!

In no time at all, she had reached the other farmhouse; it seemed that the speed of El Rhean horses was not exaggerated, either.

Mark found himself hoping he could get a get a closer look at Florina's horse later on, despite the young woman's fear of men... (Not to mention the fact that he read somewhere that El Rhean horses weren't too fond of men, either...)

Mark continued to watch as Florina had a quick conversation with the people in the farmhouse... They then shut themselves in the house, presumably to bar their doors from attack. Mark felt relieved at this; at least those people would be safe.

He then watched in concern, as Florina proceeded to lure one of the bandits away from their comrades. He had a right to be worried, for Florina had managed to attract the attention of not just one, but two bandits...

But Mark's worry proved to be unfounded, as the Wind Rider managed to elude both of them, by riding just out their reach. Frustrated, one of the bandits returned to his comrades, while the other persistantly chased Florina, as she wore him down.

Satisfied that the girl had everything well in hand, Mark decided to turn his attention back to the others... They were slowly working their way through the wrecked town, having already slain quite a number of bandits.

Just as Mark managed to focus his telescope on Lyn, he saw the plainswoman flag down someone nearby; this turned out to be Kent. He then observed curiously as she had a quick word with the cavalryman... As he continued to watch, the soldier pulled her up onto his horse, and rode off with Lyn towards one of the ruined buildings.

Mark's brow furrowed, as he lowered his telescope. Just what was Lyn up to, anyways?

xXx

Lyn held onto Kent's waist tightly, as he rode towards the back of one of the burned buildings. Fortunately, the soldier hadn't questioned her strange request, something that she had been grateful for; he had simply accepted, when she asked for a lift to this particular spot.

"Thank you, Kent," she told him, as she dismounted. Kent nodded.

"I'll be here if you need me, ma'am," he replied, tipping his hat to her. He then stood there, as Lyn strode to the back of the building.

The bandit leader was leaning against the wall back there, looking wary... However, he seemed surprised as Lyn simply walked up to him, out in the open.

"Well, well... Lookie what we have here," he leered.

Lyn ignored his expression. "Hey, you... I want to ask you something."

The bandit spat to the side. "What's that, girlie?"

The plainswoman's eyes then narrowed. "Are you part of the Mt. Deliverance Gang?"

The bandit leader looked offended, at this. "Hell no, lady! They're a bunch of monsters! They'd even kill women and children, if they had a chance!" He spat on the ground again.

"Naw, I'm with the Gatlin Gang. We don't touch the womenfolk..." He then grinned, nastily. "Not when we can sell 'em, first."

Lyn's expression didn't change. "Well, if you're not from Mt. Deliverance, then I'll give you a chance... We've already taken care of most of your men; give up now, if you want to live."

At this, the bandit looked outraged. "Why, you...! No li'l missy is gonna backtalk me and get away with it!" Drawing his axe, he lunged at Lyn.

The plainswoman managed to dodge his first attack, as she drew her sword. However, this bandit leader was far stronger than the previous ones she had encountered; despite her speed, he managed to get in a couple of hits in, and in doing so, cut her far more painfully than she had ever experienced before.

As she winced from her wounds, Lyn found herself wondering if she could actually defeat this foe...

Just then, there was a thundering of hooves behind her; Lyn saw a blur of red and the flash of a metal sweep past her, as the blade of another sword fatally stabbed the bandit in the heart.

As the bandit's body collapsed onto the ground, Lyn fell to one knee; immediately, Kent dismounted and ran to Lyn's side.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked, in concern. The plainswoman nodded, as the cavalryman helped her up.

"Don't worry, Kent... I can stand on my own." However, Lyn clutched her side, as she said this. At this, Kent hung his head.

"I'm sorry that I interfered, Miss Lynette," he apologized. "I was watchin' your fight from afar, and it looked like you needed some help, there..." He tilted his hat over his face, looking contrite.

Lyn smiled at him. "That's all right, Kent. I appreciate the help... If you hadn't charged in when you did, he might've gotten me, for sure." Kent then returned her smile, with a reluctant one of his own.

Just then, the rest of the group caught up to them. "I saw what happened," said Mark, sounding out of breath. "Are you all right, Lyn?"

"I'm fine," Lyn reassured the others, then winced. "Nothing some of my healing salve won't fix, I think."

As Mark began to tend to her wounds, Lyn turned to Florina.

"So Florina, you never did say why you came looking for me," commented Lyn. "It's dangerous to be wandering out here, all alone."

At this, Florina shifted uneasily.

"Miss Lyn," she began slowly, "do you recall how I was telling you what a trainee must do, before they become a full-fledged Wind Rider?" Lyn paused in thought for a moment.

"Oh, that's right," said the plainswoman, finally. "You said that you had to join a posse, in order to gain experience in the field."

Florina nodded. "That is correct. This is why I wished to speak to you... But when I had reached the Sacramento Plains, I heard that you had already gone off with a bunch of strangers..."

Lyn shook her head, but with a smile. "So, you were worried about me?" she asked. "I'm sorry, but you really should worry more about yourself."

Florina's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters..." began Lyn, "Most posses are made out of men... Tough men. I just don't think you'd be comfortable around those sort of folks."

Florina hung her head. "I am realizing this... But it has always been my dream to become a real Wind Rider of El Rhea. I was thinking that it would all work out in the end, si?" She then averted her gaze. "But now... I am not so sure..." Mark and the others noticed tears in her eyes, as she said this.

"Now, now, Florina..." reassured Lyn. "That's no reason to give up..." Just then, a wide grin spread across Sain's face.

"Now, hold your horses there, Miss Florina..." he declared. "I just got me an idea!"

Behind him, Kent tilted his hat over his face. "Oh, great..." he muttered.

Oblivious to his partner's reaction, Sain went on. "Why don't you ride with us?" he asked Florina enthusiastically. "Now that we got Wil on our side, we've got more than enough for a real posse!"

Wil raised his eyebrows. "Whoa, pardner... You mean me, as well?"

Sain nodded. "That's right, kiddo!" He then took of his hat and put on his chest. "I reckon that it was providence that brought us all together, like this... With Miss Lynette's Windrunners, I reckon that we'll be the best bounty hunters around!"

Kent glared at him. "Sain, would you think with your head for a spell? A posse ain't just something we can toss together like this!"

As the two cavalrymen continued to argue in the background, Florina leaned over to speak to Lyn.

"Um... Lyn? Why is he calling you by that name? And what is this about bounty hunters?" Overhearing this, Mark felt he should explain.

"Er, don't mind Sain," he told her, somewhat embarrassed. "I think he's just getting a little carried away, again."

Lyn nodded in agreement. "I'll explain everything else to you later," she said to Florina. The plainswoman then paused in thought.

"Still, I think Sain does have the right idea..." mused Lyn. Turning back to the other girl, she enquired, "Would you like to join us, Florina?"

At this, Florina's eyes lit up. "You... Want me to come with you, Miss Lyn? Oh, I would love to!" Hearing this, Sain pumped his fist in the air.

"Yeehaw!" he cheered. "Glad to have another lovely lady on board, Miss Florina!" He reached out to take her hand.

"I'm Sain Steele from Sierra," he introduced himself, "it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance..."

However, before Sain could even touch her, Florina managed to duck behind Lyn.

"Eeep! Please, senor! Not so close!"

Behind Sain, Kent buried his face in his hand, as the rest of the group chuckled. Meanwhile, Wil sidled up to Lyn.

"So... You folks don't mind havin' me along?" he enquired.

Lyn smiled at him. "Not at all! We'd be glad to have you with us, Wil."

As she said this, Wil scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Actually, I reckon I should be thankin' you, ma'am," he told her. "I was robbed a while back, so I was kind of stuck out here..." He then smiled. "I'd be more than happy to call myself one of Miss Lynette's Windrunners!"

At this, Lyn's eyes widened.

"Oh dear, now he's calling me that, too..." she murmured softly to herself. "Things just keep getting stranger and stranger, don't they, Mark?"

Mark could only shrug helplessly, in reply.

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

In case you were wondering... Yes, I actually had Kent "rescue" Lyn so I could get her speech with the boss. XD

Oh, and El Rhea is obviously supposed to be Ilia... (I guess it probably should be "La Rhea" instead, but I was aiming for something that sounded somewhat like the original name, rather than correct grammar. :P)

I suppose I should apologize for Florina's accent, as well... (I wasn't quite sure how to write a Spanish accent without sounding too stereotypical, so I opted for a rather formal yet stilted manner of speech, for her.)


	5. Trapped in the Ghost Town

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

Chapter 4: Trapped in the Ghost Town

It was almost sunset when the newly-dubbed "Miss Lynette's Windrunners" rode through the dusty road of a town, long abandoned. Blank storefronts glared at them balefully, as the paint peeled off their bleached timbers.

"We can bed down here tonight," said Wil, halting his horse.

"Here? In this run-down, ol' ghost town?" Sain snorted. "You're pullin' my leg, ain't ya, Wil?"

"Sain's got a point..." admitted Mark, a bit reluctantly. He half-expected to see a dried-up old tumbleweed roll past them, at any moment now.

Wil shook his head. "What with all the bandits 'round here, there ain't that many safe places where we can stay; this is the best we can do, for tonight."

Kent shrugged. "Well, it can't be helped... Let's take a look around."

After a bit of exploring, the group chose the largest building in town to bed down in. Though a lot of the roof was missing, the walls of the building were still intact; Mark thought it might have been the Town Hall, back when the town was still prosperous.

"This will do," said Lyn. "I prefer the open air, anyways."

"I'll be fine as long as I'm with Miss Lyn," added Florina.

"And this soldier will be right at your side, protecting you fine ladies," grinned Sain, with a tip of his hat.

Kent glared at him. "Did you forget we're on watch duty tonight, Sain? You and I will be takin' turns, on guard."

"Aw, shoot..."

As Sain looked despondant, Wil started a campfire, while the others led their horses into an empty corner of the building.

They had just about finished setting up camp, when suddenly, there was a sharp cracking noise, made louder by the silence of the deserted town. Instantly, the entire group was alert. Mark found himself jumping in surprise, as the rest of the group reached for their weapons.

"Who's there?" said Lyn, glaring into the shadows.

There was pause, then a slight figure walked towards the firelight.

"Um... Excuse me..." said a diffident voice, obviously belonging a woman. The group relaxed a little.

Lyn lowered her sword. "What can we do for you, ma'am?" she asked politely.

The source of the voice walked further into view, revealing a brown-haired woman in a plain, homespun dress; she was leading a mule behind her.

"I'm sorry to barge in on y'all like this... My name is Natalie Moore. I'm from a nearby settlement."

She stepped over some fallen timber, which was most likely the source of the noise from before. Mark, being the closest, couldn't help notice the grimace of pain that spread across Natalie's face, as she did so.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked, concerned. It was then that he could clearly see what was bothering her.

"Your leg..." murmured Lyn. It was now visibly obvious to the group that the woman's leg was deformed. Natalie seemed resigned at the attention drawn to the deformity, but shook it off.

"It's nothin'," she said simply. "I got this bum leg from a childhood illness. I've gotten used to it, but I can't walk for very long; that's why I rode over here."

"What are you doing way out here, anyways?" asked Lyn. "It isn't safe to be all alone in these parts."

"I'm lookin' for my husband," Natalie explained. "He told me he'd be lookin' for work around here... He's been tryin' to earn money to get my leg healed, you see, so he left the settlement a while ago... But I haven't heard from him since."

She paused for a moment. "My husband is a good man," she said slowly. "But I fear he may have gotten involved with some dangerous folk, for my sake."

She then held out a small square of paper to Lyn. As Mark glanced over Lyn's shoulder, he saw that it was, in fact, a faded brown-  
and-white photograph, of a stocky man, with kind eyes.

"My husband's name is Dorcas Moore. Have you seen him?" asked Natalie hopefully.

Lyn examined the photo, then shook her head. "Sorry ma'am, I'm afraid I've never met this man before."

"I see..." Natalie looked downcast. "Well, if you do meet him, please let him know that his wife is lookin' for him."

Lyn gave her a small smile. "I will. I promise."

Just then, Kent tapped Lyn's shoulder, a grim expression on his face. "Bad news, Miss Lynette... I'm afraid we're surrounded."

Lyn turned around, in shock. "What? How?"

"I reckon it's those same bandits from before, the Gatlin Gang," called out Sain, from his vantage point at one of the broken windows. "Think they want some revenge for what we did to their men." He shot her a lazy grin. "Should we mosey on out there and make 'em sorry for tailin' us?"

"No, we can't risk exposing Miss Natalie to danger," said Lyn, causing the other woman to flush in embarassment.

"How about we let them come to us, then?" suggested Mark timidly. "This place still has good, solid walls; that means we'll just have to guard the doors and windows."

"Good idea, Mark," agreed Lyn. "Then all we'll have to do is hold out until nightfall, when it'll be too dark for them to fight us." She turned to Natalie. "Don't worry, we'll protect you."

Natalie smiled weakly at her. "I thank you, ma'am..."

As Lyn reassured the other woman, Mark carefully took stock of the building they were now holed up in.

There were only two entrances; a pair of double doors to the southwest, and a side door to the east. All the windows were boarded up very tightly, except for the west window, which was the one Sain had been watching from; that had a few broken glass panes.

So, that makes two spots to guard from incoming bandits, mused Mark to himself. Three if you include the window, since it counts a weak point. All right, then...

"Can I have everyone's attention?" asked Mark, as the others turned to look at him.

"Here's what I think we should do: Kent, Sain, you two guard the front doors from attack. Lyn, you watch the side door, while Wil can keep an eye on that broken window to the side; he should be able to shoot at anyone who comes too close. Florina should help out anyone who needs it. How does that sound?"

"We hear ya, commander," grinned Sain, as everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Commander?" asked Mark, bewildered.

"Oh, don't mind Sain," said Lyn, patting him on the back. "He's just teasing you."

Just then, a shout rang out from outside.

"Hey! You in there!" yelled the leader of the bandits. "We've got you surrounded! There's no place to run, so why don't you just surrender now... Maybe we'll even let you live!" The sniggers from the outlaws outside could be heard from even inside the building.

"If you want us so badly, why don't you come in here and get us?" Lyn yelled back, mockingly.

The speaker let out an audible growl. "Suit yerselves. Go get 'em, boys!"

As the bandits charged the building, Mark gestured to the group. "Quick! Take your positions!" he called out.

Immediately, the group spread out. Kent and Sain stood on either side of the main doorway, with their backs to the wall and brandishing their swords; Lyn guarded the side entrance, in a fighting stance; Wil broke one of the lower panes of the window he was guarding with the butt of his rifle, and prepared to aim; and even timid Florina tightened the grip on her spear and looked ready to aid in the fight.

Mark then turned to Natalie, who still looked apprehensive. "Stay back here, by the fire," he told her. "And don't worry about a thing, these people will defend you with their lives." Natalie could only nod at him in reply, her eyes wide with fear.

Mark patted her on the back reassuringly, then turned his attention to the fight. It had just started; a couple of axemen had just charged the front doors, but were held back by the two cavalrymen; Wil looked like he was already shooting at something outside...

Then he glanced over at Lyn, who was over by the other doorway. His eyes widened. "Isn't that...?" he said to himself, aloud.

Lyn seemed to notice something was amiss, as well; as she clashed her sword with her opponent's axe, an expression of recognition spread across her face.

"Aren't you..?" Lyn began, as she parried the axeman's attack. Then both leapt back, and resumed fighting stances.

"Hey!" she called out to her opponent. "Your name is Dorcas Moore, isn't it?"

The axeman, who indeed resembled the man in Natalie's photograph, looked taken aback, then raised his weapon again. "How do you know my name?" he asked, with narrowed eyes.

"Your wife told us," replied Lyn, projecting calm in her voice. "What are you doing with these outlaws?"

"I need the money," he answered gruffly.

"Yes, but they're still outlaws," Lyn pointed out. "Why work for a gang of thugs?"

"This is the only way I can earn any cash around here," said Dorcas. "I'm just a woodcutter; I don't have any other skills. Besides, I need the money to cure my wife's sickness."

Lyn's expression hardened. "If you're trying to help your wife, then why are you trying to kill her?"

Dorcas looked bewildered at this. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Your wife, Natalie? She's here, right now. My friends and I are protecting her, at this very moment."

Lyn moved aside briefly, allowing Dorcas to look behind her. The axeman could now clearly see Natalie sitting by the fire, as Mark tried to comfort her. Dorcas's eyes widened.

"B-but... What's she doing here?"

"She was looking for you," replied Lyn, grimly. "Do you think your wife would be happy to see you like this? Working as an outlaw?"

The axeman met her steady gaze. Then finally, he lowered his weapon. "You're right, miss," said Dorcas quietly. "From now on, I won't work for any more bandits."

He then looked serious. "Listen, I want to thank you for protectin' my wife, like this. Lemme return the favour, by helpin' y'all defend this place."

Lyn looked surprised. "You mean that?"

Dorcas gave her a small smile. "Yes ma'am, I do."

xXx

Mark watched as Dorcas shook hands with Lyn, in an obvious gesture of truce, then looked on as the two headed out the door, presumably to defend that side from invaders. He heaved a sigh of relief, to himself. Natalie overheard this, and mistook Mark's expression.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

Mark patted her hand. "Not at all, Miss Natalie. I think something has just turned in our favour... In fact, I do believe your husband is going to help us out."

Her eyes widened. "My husband? You mean... Dorcas is here?"

Mark nodded. "That's right, madam. He must've been... Passing by, and noticed we were in danger, so he decided to help."

As he said this, Natalie gave him a look of disbelief, and Mark couldn't blame her; he knew that he was a terrible liar.

She lowered her eyes. "You don't have to defend him, sir... I already suspected he might've been working for outlaws..." She then raised her head and smiled at him. "But I'm still happy that he changed his mind." Mark returned her smile, with a weak one of his own.

He then turned his attention back to the fight, and signalled to Florina. As the Wind Rider turned to him, Mark made a gesture indicating that she should help out Wil defend the window from attack. The girl looked hesitant at first, then nodded and headed over to help the rifleman.

Mark then glanced at the front doors, where the two cavalrymen were just barely keeping a veritable horde of bandits at bay.

"Shoot, they just keep comin', don't they?" complained Sain, as he and Kent defended the doorway from yet another wave of incoming bandits. "They must really be sore at us..."

"The way things are going, we may be overrun before night falls," added Kent, with a frown.

Overhearing this, Mark tried to encourage the two.

"Just do the best you can," he told them, but a line of worry had appeared across his forehead.

_They're right,_ he thought. _We'll have to end this soon; we simply can't hold out here, for long... They'll just wear us down with their overwhelming numbers._

As Mark continued to fret, he then heard someone call out to him.

"What is it, Wil?" he asked, turning to the other boy.

"Doesn't look like there are any more reinforcements comin' 'round this side," said Wil, as he peered down the line of his rifle. "I reckon it might be safe for me and Florina to move now, if you need some support elsewhere."

Mark looked relieved at his words. "That's good to hear, Wil. Why don't you go ahead then and help Kent and Sain at the main doors, and Florina can go help out Lyn outside."

The two nodded, and stepped away from the window they were guarding. Mark trusted that Wil's observation was accurate, and there would be no more bandits attacking at that spot.

Just as Wil started to shoot at some of the bandits the two cavalrymen were fighting, Mark heard his name being called out again.

"Yes, Kent?" he answered.

"Looks like their numbers are finally thinnin' up here as well," reported Kent. "I reckon we don't need to stay bottled up here in this doorway, for much longer."

Mark breathed another sigh of relief. "All right, then... As soon as the coast is clear, you three spread out spread out a bit and start looking for their leader. If we can get rid of him, them I'm sure the rest of the bandits will sound a retreat, as well."

Hearing this, Kent, Sain and Wil prepared to move forward, as soon as there was a break in the fighting. This came sooner than Mark expected, and when it did, the three young men moved out from their position, splitting up as they did so; although Wil was careful not to stray too far from the two soldiers, so he wouldn't get ambushed.

Seeing that the three had things well at hand, Mark returned to check on Natalie.

"Um... How is the fight going?" she asked, in concern.

Mark smiled at her. "Don't worry, I'm sure it will be all over soon."

Her eyes widened. "You mean... You think we're going to win?"

He nodded. "I believe so."

Natalie closed her eyes in relief. "I can't thank you folks enough, then..." she told him.

"Well, we're not out of it yet," Mark told her, honestly. "But I think we're going to make it."

Mark then found himself worrying about Lyn, for a moment. She had moved out of his line of sight, when she had gone out the side door... But she had to be fine, right? She had Natalie's husband with her, and he sent Florina to help her, as well...

Although Mark knew the plainswoman could take care of herself (probably), he couldn't help but be a little concerned about her, at times.

Just then, Mark heard a couple of shouts in the distance, which he couldn't quite make out, from inside the building... Making a motion towards Natalie to stay where she was, he gingerly poked his head outside the main doorway.

He was now able to hear the pounding of hoofbeats in the distance, as the rest of group walked back towards the ruined building, looking weary but triumphant. Mark looked around, until he met Lyn's tired gaze.

"I take it we won?" he asked.

She nodded, and smiled. "Yes, we've won... Thanks to your quick thinking." Behind her, strolled Sain, whose sabre was covered in blood.

"I got their leader, too," drawled the cavalryman, "right when that dirty son of a..." Casting a glance at the girls in the group, he hastily edited, "Pup... Was gonna turn tail and run."

Kent nodded. "Just in the nick of time... I reckon that we were about to run out of light, as well," he added, gazing up at the rapidly darkening sky.

Mark then felt movement beside him... He turned just in time, to see Natalie join him in the doorway. He then watched as her eyes lit up, when she saw who was walking beside Lyn.

"Dorcas!" she cried out.

The axeman looked up, as he heard his name.

"Natalie..."

The young woman limped up to her husband, who then clasped her in a warm embrace. Mark could barely hear a muffled, "I'm sorry," from Dorcas, while his wife could only reply with sobs of relief, simply grateful that her husband was safe.

As Lyn walked up to Mark, they exchanged a contented glance, at a job well done.

xXx

While the rest of the group headed inside the ruined building to settle down for the night, Dorcas spoke with Lyn and Mark privately, outside.

"I can't thank you enough for what y'all done for my wife," the axeman told them.

"Think nothing of it," replied Lyn, with a smile.

Mark nodded. "I'm just glad that everything worked out."

Just then, Natalie walked out of the building, with her mule in tow. Dorcas took a moment to help his wife mount up, then turned back to Lyn and Mark.

"I'm gonna make sure my wife gets home safely... I reckon I'll see you folks in the morning, then."

Lyn raised an eyebrow. "See us in the morning? Aren't you going to go home, with your wife?"

"Well..." Dorcas rubbed the back of his head, in sheepish manner. "Mr. Alexander here offered to hire me for my services... I reckon I couldn't refuse such a kind offer."

Lyn glanced suspiciously at Mark, who had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Well, you should know then that we're heading to La Sienna," she explained to Dorcas. "That's in the next county... Are you sure you still want to come along?"

The axeman nodded. "Mark mentioned that, too. But I gotta make a livin' somehow, and if I have to travel away from home, so be it. 'Sides..." He cast a sidelong glance at his wife. "It's the least that I could do, after what you folks did for us."

Natalie nodded, as well. "Me and my husband talked this over, and we're both agreed on this, ma'am."

Lyn shook her head, but with a smile. "Well, I suppose I can't refuse then, can I?"

As Dorcas mounted up behind his wife, Natalie turned to Lyn and Mark again.

"I know you folks will take good care of my husband... Take care, y'all."

Lyn and Mark waved goodbye to the couple, as they rode off, into the night.

xXx

As Lyn and Mark stepped back into the building, the plainswoman breathed a sigh of relief.

"Looks like everything has finally settled down," she observed. Mark nodded, in agreement.

Just then, Kent walked up to them, and saluted. "Why don't you folks bed down for the night," he told them. "Sain and I will be takin' turns on guard duty tonight, so you can rest easy."

Lyn raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure that's all right? Sain?"

She turned to the other cavalryman, who was sitting by the fire... It almost looked like he was dozing, but he started when the plainswoman addressed him.

"Hmmm...? Oh, I reckon we'll be fine," answered Sain.

Lyn eyed him suspiciously. "I trust that you'll be alert all night, then? If you're caught off guard, then you may be cut down, without mercy."

Sain drew himself up proudly. "Ain't I a soldier of the cavalry, l'il lady? I'm always on duty! You can count on me!"

Kent nodded. "You have nothing to fear, Miss Lynette. Please, sleep well."

Lyn relaxed, at this. "Very well, then. Good night, you two... And sleep well, Mark."

Lyn and Mark headed off to their respective bedrolls, while Kent sat by the main doors, to keep watch. Meanwhile, left all alone, Sain chuckled.

"Nobody ever trusts me, do they?" he murmured to himself, in an amused tone.

Then tilting his hat over his face, he dozed off, until he'd be awakened for his turn on watch duty.

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

I know I've been keeping to the game script for the most part in the past couple of chapters, but I promise that there'll be more original material in the next one. ;) (I'd like to add more original stuff quite frankly, but I think that it would detract from the main plot.)

Here are a couple of name references for the previous chapter:

Florina Mariposa - Mariposa means "butterfly" in Spanish. (Apparently, it can also be a profanity when directed to males, heh.) Oh, and I forgot to mention that I also renamed her mount from Huey to Javier.

Wil Bartlett - Inspired by Will Scarlett, from Robin Hood. (Yes, I'm fond of puns.) Originally I planned Wil's last name to be Baretta, but I thought the gun reference was too obvious...


	6. Across the Border

Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2007. Fire Emblem and all related characters are property of Nintendo et al., and are used without permission.

xXx

It's Fire Emblem like you've never seen it before... Set in a Western!

xXxXx

(As the Fire Emblem theme plays in the background, a red-hot branding iron burns the title of the story onto an aging map, which eventually dissolves into ash:)

xXx

"Fire Emblem: The Burning Brand"

Chapter 5: Across the Border

The night passed in the old ghost town without incident, and by the next morning, Dorcas had rejoined Lyn's group. Then all together, they began the ride towards the border between the counties of Burnt and La Sienna.

_It won't be long before we cross into the next county,_ mused Mark, as they rode through a mountainous pass.

Just as he thought that, Kent announced, "We're almost to La Sienna county, now."

"Those bandits won't follow us across the border, will they?" asked Lyn, in concern.

Wil shook his head. "I reckon not... The lawmen in La Sienna are pretty tough, when it comes to bandits; they won't want to mess with the law, 'round these parts."

"You almost sound like you're from around here," observed Mark.

Mark couldn't help notice that Wil looked uneasy at this comment, but was then distracted, as Sain rode up to them.

"Ah, La Sienna... It's sure been a while!" sighed the cavalryman. "By this time tomorrow, we'll be in a real town, eatin' something other than field rations, for a change! And I've heard that there's the prettiest li'l singer, at the saloon just over the border..."

Sain then shot Mark a sly wink. "Say, why don't you come along, city boy? You haven't really seen the West until you've seen our dancing girls!"

Mark blushed. "Uh... I think I'll pass."

Kent frowned at the other soldier. "Sain, if you're going to act that way, then I reckon we should just find another place to stay. After all, we're just passin' through."

"But we've been ridin' for days, now!" protested Sain. "Don't we deserve to rest a spell?"

"Staying in town will be fine, Kent," said Lyn. "Don't worry about it."

Kent tipped his hat at her. "Whatever you say, ma'am."

Sain gave Lyn a beatific gaze. "Truly, you're an angel from on high, Miss Lynette!"

Lyn rolled her eyes. "Sain, please..." At this, the soldier looked sheepish.

"Well, at least we will finally be able to sleep in a warm bed, si?" commented Florina.

She glanced at Lyn as she said this, but the plainswoman wasn't paying attention... It was then that Mark noticed that Lyn seemed preoccupied, as she looked over her shoulder.

"Oh dear... They just don't give up, do they?" she muttered, under her breath.

Mark's eyes widened, at this. "Don't tell me... Those bandits have caught up to us again?"

"Come on!" Lyn urged her horse to go faster, as the others followed her lead. "Maybe we can outrun them to the border!"

"It's no use..." Wil pointed ahead of them, at a line of men blocking their path. "They've cut off our way out of the mountains... They've got us surrounded!"

As Lyn's group clustered together, brandishing their weapons, the bandits began to advance on them, encircling the group.

"Thought you folks could get away, did ya?" the lead bandit snarled at them.

Lyn urged her horse forward. "Listen, we have no quarrel with you," she told him. "Just let us pass!"

The bandit shook his head. "Uh-uh, lady. You're the folks that killed Miguel and Carija, and we just can't let that slide... Nobody messes with the Gatlin Gang and lives to tell about it!"

He made a gesture, and the gang of bandits started to close in on Lyn's group, in an ominous fashion.

xXx

Meanwhile, not far away, the gunman known as Erk Horn rode in silence, letting his horse plod slowly through the wilderness. He was a stoic man by nature, but he was even more so now, than usual... Though that might have been due to the nature of his travelling companion.

"I do declare, you are the worst escort it has ever been my misfortune to encounter!" exclaimed a petulant female voice behind him. "Are we lost again?"

Erk sighed heavily to himself. "Ma'am, you chose this path," he pointed out.

"My dear sir, I'm sure I would've picked the correct path, and not have misled us..."

The gunman found himself once again cursing the fate that had brought him to this time and place... He would still have been in Atlas Ridge, probably continuing his own studies, had not the Marshall of that county taken him aside, to have a word with him.

"Listen, Erk..." the Marshall had told him, frankly. "You have a gift; that of incredible marksmanship. You can't let it go to waste around here; you've got to go out there and use it, to protect the weak and the innocent... Do you understand me?"

Erk owed a lot to the Marshall and his wife, so he respected the man's words, and set off into the world... But Erk highly suspected that when the man had told him to 'protect the weak and innocent', he would not have counted on meeting Sister Serra.

The aforementioned nun rode on a mule a few paces behind Erk, a choice of mount that the sister had not been pleased about; however, it was the only mount with an even enough temper to put up with its rider. Erk found it rather appropriate for her, actually... Though he would normally never say so aloud.

However, after several seemingly-neverending days of riding in the company of the nun, the gunman's temper was wearing thin... And he now felt that he had held his tongue long enough.

"Look, lady..." began Erk, behind gritted teeth, "When I took this job, they didn't tell me nothin' about you..."

Serra's eyes narrowed. "What do mean by that, sir?"

"I was told that I was hired to protect a sister of St. Elimine," he explained.

"And I am that sister," sniffed the nun, fanning herself haughtily with her prayerbook. "And as you well know, I am nothing but a helpless Southern belle..."

"Helpless? You?" Erk snorted. "Lady, you don't need no protection from me... Any outlaw who'd spend five minutes in your company would gladly turn himself in for the reward money!"

The gunman's voice then softened, and turned pleading. "Listen, ma'am... We ain't that far from Austin City, now. Couldn't you just ride there the rest of the way, by yourself? I'll even give you back the money you paid me!"

The nun set her jaw. "My dear sir, I'll have you know that I am a Hollingsworth... And no Hollingsworth lady would be caught dead without a male escort! Besides, you just happen to be presentable enough to be a suitable travelling companion, Mr. Horn, despite how boorish and ill-mannered you truly are..."

"Hmph. I could say the same thing about you, lady," grumbled Erk, under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Horn?" asked Serra archly.

"Nothin'." He heaved another sigh. "I can't believe you're making me take you all the way to Austin City..."

"What are you going on about? Honestly, perhaps I could've found an escort with a sunnier disposition..." The sister then cocked her head to one side.

"Hmmm? I do believe I hear something amiss... Come, Mr. Erk, we should go check it out!" She quickly clicked her heels to the side of her mount, and rode off.

Erk groaned and followed her, muttering, "What a surprise, she goes looking for trouble. Sweet Elimine, I don't get paid enough to do this..."

xXx

The gunman managed to catch up with Serra, to find her and her mule standing near the edge of a small cliff, watching as some sort of fight went on down below.

"Is that a gunfight?" The nun placed a hand over her chest, as if she might swoon. "I do declare, that makes my heart go all a-flutter!"

Disgusted, Erk moved his horse in front of Serra, effectively blocking the young woman's view of the fight.

"How dare you, sir!"

"Would you hush up, lady?" he snapped. "Do you want those bandits to hear us?"

"But look at that girl fighting all those filthy outlaws!" she told him, pointing down below. The nun then placed her hands on her hips.

"You aren't afraid a few li'l ol' bandits, are you, Mr. Erk? And you call yourself a hired gun... Do you even know how to use those six-shooters you wear?"

The gunman was just about to make a cutting remark, when one of the outlaws happened to overhear their argument.

"Hey! You two!"

Erk put a hand over his eyes. "Oh, perfect..."

For the first time in his life, Erk seriously considered turning his guns on a clergyman, despite the fact he was certain that St. Elimine would not appreciate him shooting one of her followers... No matter how irritating he found them.

However, this was probably a bad time to be contemplating that course of action, as the bandit that had spotted them had just pointed his rifle at Serra... Causing the sister to let out a piercing shriek.

Erk cringed at the noise. "Hush your mouth, gal! And get behind me, ya hear?" Quickly, the gunman dismounted his horse, pulled out his trusty six-shooters, and prepared to fight for his life.

xXx

Meanwhile, the fight between Lyn's group and the band of outlaws had just began in earnest; Lyn herself had already slain a couple of bandits, as Mark stood nearby nervously and watched.

Just then, Lyn looked up, from the bandit she had defeated. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Mark, who was hanging back uneasily behind her.

"A woman's scream... It came from over there!" said the plainswoman, pointing.

Mark furrowed his brow, in uncertainty. "We'd better check it out..."

The two ran over to the source of the disturbance, just in time to hear three gunshots pierce the air, and causing both of them to quicken their pace.

As the pair finally reached their destination, they overheard a disgruntled female voice murmur, "Huh. I guess your reputation as a gunfighter isn't completely unfounded, Mr. Erk..."

Mark and Lyn found themselves face-to-face with an odd couple indeed; a pink-haired nun dressed in white robes (that would've been pristine had she not been travelling for days) trying to look dignified as she sat on a mule... In front of her, stood a violet-haired young man dressed in a long, brown trenchcoat, holding a pair of smoking six-shooters. At his feet, lay one of the bandits, quite obviously dead.

Lyn found herself coughing politely. "Uh, excuse me..."

Both strangers looked up at this; the gunman in particular twirled his guns and replaced them back in his holsters.

"Yes, ma'am?" the nun replied, as she tried to compose herself.

"Why were you fighting this outlaw?" enquired Lyn.

"It just... Happened that way," answered the gunfighter.

"It most certainly did not!" his companion protested hotly. "That... Vicious brute thought we were a part of your gang! How dare you drag us into this position, as well!"

The gunman rolled his eyes. "Sister Serra," he began, in an impatient tone, "this never would've have happened in the first place, if you didn't decide to stick your nose into other people's business!"

"Well, I never!"

The young man tipped his hat politely to Lyn, as the sister turned away in a huff. "My apologies, ma'am... We'll be on our way, now."

"But... Won't those men be after you two, as well?" asked Mark.

"I can't help but feel partly responsible for what happened to you," added Lyn, with a twinge of guilt. "Why not join our group? We could use your help in getting rid of these bandits."

The nun seemed to mull this over. "Yes, that does sound like a good idea..." She waved a hand airily at the gunfighter. "Erk, be a l'il darlin' and help these two out, won't you?"

"What?" he protested. Then, the gunman looked resigned. "Oh, fine, then... But I ain't doing this because you're telling me to, lady."

"Believe whatever you want, honeysuckle..."

At this, Mark and Lyn couldn't help exchanging a uneasy glance at each other. What kind of characters had they invited to join them, now?

Suddenly, the gunman winced, as he grabbed his shoulder. Lyn glanced over at him, in concern.

"Oh dear... You're hurt, aren't you?"

Mark's brow wrinkled with worry. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

Meanwhile, Lyn was rummaging around in her pack. "I think I still have some leftover healing salve in here, somewhere..."

The gunman shook his head. "I reckon I'll be fine, ma'am... I just had a bullet graze my arm; it's nothing, really."

Just then, the nun stepped forward. "Not to worry, Mr. Erk..." she declared, looking smug. "I can take care of that nasty li'l cut for you; I have to look out for my bodyguard, after all."

From her saddlebag, she pulled out a wooden staff, which looked relatively plain, except for a blue gem at the top. Then, holding the jewelled end over Erk's wound, she began to murmur softly under her breath.

To Lyn and Mark's amazement, the jewel began to glow, bathing Erk's arm with blue light, and healing up the wound before their very eyes. It was not long after that Erk was moving his shoulder tentatively, with no sign of pain whatsoever.

Meanwhile, the nun twirled her staff, with a look of satisfaction.

"There. Back to full health, courtesy of Sister Serra. Consider this one on the house, Mr. Erk... This time around." She leaned forward, to smirk at the young man. "Aren't you glad to have me around?"

Gritting his teeth, the gunman looked away from her smug expression.

"Gee, thanks..." he muttered, his voice dripping with irony.

As the nun straightened up, she turned to Lyn and Mark, who had been watching the exchange between the two with some bemusement.

"Well, we'd better get going, shall we?" she told them cheerfully. "We have the rest of those nasty ol' bandits to take care of. Come along, Mr. Erk..."

With a sullen expression, the gunman followed the nun, as did Lyn and Mark, who were still somewhat taken aback by their new companions.

xXx

While the four of them headed off after the bandits, both pairs hastily introduced themselves to each other... Then they all turned to focus at the task at hand.

As their combined group continued to take down the bandits, Mark noticed that the outlaws' numbers had seemed to have dwindled from their previous encounters... If that was true, then it was no wonder the Gatlin Gang was so sore at them, he thought to himself.

Mark then found his attention turning to Erk, who was the first actual gunfighter that he had come across, since he had arrived in El Libre... And as such, the gunman did not disappoint.

Erk Horn handled his six-shooters with cool confidence and deadly accuracy; it was almost uncanny, the way he did so. And although he didn't strike Mark as the type to be a cold-hearted killer, Erk's lack of expression when in combat, made it very hard to tell...

At long last, Lyn's group finally managed to take care of the last of the bandits, as Erk finished off their leader with a well-aimed shot from one of his guns.

Lyn and Mark heaved a mutual sigh of relief, when they realized the fight was over... Not long after, Serra and Erk rode up to the two, to have a word with them.

"I must say..." Serra told Lyn, "You were ever so brave, facing all of those dreadful bandits, like that."

"Actually, I'm impressed by your abilities, as well," admitted Lyn. "Your healing powers are quite astonishing."

"Well, I am in the service of St. Elimine, after all," proclaimed the nun, looking smug. "My staff has been blessed by the saint herself; only someone with my inate talent could wield such a holy relic of power." As Serra said this, she tried to sound modest, but with little success (at least, in Mark's opinion).

"Um, yes..." replied Lyn, tactfully. "Well, we should be on our way now... Take care, you two." Serra and Erk politely exchanged their farewells to Lyn and Mark, in return.

As Lyn rode away, Mark hung back uneasily. He was dying to have a word with Erk, who was the first real gunfighter he had come across in the Wild West, so far. But if the gunman left now, then he would never get a chance to speak with him...

While Mark fretted over whether he should say something to the two before they left, he found that somebody else had already taken care of the matter for him.

"Why, lookie here... Is this a mirage? Or just an oasis in the desert? 'Cause lady, your beauty is just like a clear spring to a parched traveller!"

Mark found himself wincing internally at the flowery speech. There was only one person around here who would talk like that, especially to a lady...

His suspicion was confirmed, as he glanced over at Serra and Erk; by this point, Sain had already bent over the nun's hand, and kissed it. Meanwhile, Serra seemed flattered by all the attention.

"Oh my!" she declared, with a blush. "You must be one of Miss Lyn's companions, aren't you?"

Sain nodded. "That I am, ma'am... The name is Sain Steele."

"I never dreamed I'd finally meet a gentleman of such discerning taste, way out here... And a cavalryman, no less!" Sain beamed at the compliment. "I am Serra Hollingworth, a humble sister of St. Elimine."

Just then, Mark caught Erk's expression... The gunman clearly looked exasperated by his companion's behaviour, as he rolled his eyes skywards. Mark couldn't blame him; even he found the flirtacious display between Sain and Serra, rather embarrassing to watch.

"So, what brings you out here, Mr. Steele?" Serra asked Sain, as she fanned herself coquettishly.

"I'm on a mission of great importance for the Mayor of Sierra." He leaned towards her, as if conveying a valuable secret. "We're escortin' his granddaughter back to Sierra, ya see..."

Serra raised an eyebrow. "You mean... Lyn is the Mayor's granddaughter?"

Sain nodded. "That's right, ma'am."

"Hmmm..."

A sly look appeared in Serra's eyes. Noticing this, Erk cast a suspicious glance at her.

"You're up to something, ain't ya?"

"Now, now, my intentions are absolutely pure and virtuous, Mr. Erk." As the gunman snorted, she continued on, in a low voice.

"'Those who help others, help themselves', right? And if the 'other' in question just happens to be related to someone of power, then I'm certainly helping myself, aren't I?"

Erk shook his head, in disgust. "Lady, what kind of nun are you?"

"The 'going to be rich' kind!" Serra then raised her voice again.

"Yoo-hoo! Mr. Sain?" she called out, as she waved the cavalryman over. "I was wonderin'... Would Miss Lyn mind if we joined her li'l ol' posse? I want to help her, out of the goodness of my own heart." Behind her, Erk covered his face with his hand.

Sain tipped his hat at Serra, with a grin. "Ma'am, I'm sure she'd be delighted to have you along. I reckon we could always use a couple of extra hired guns."

The nun raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh? You're not wanted men, are you?"

"Not at all, ma'am!" protested Sain. "Miss Lynette just happens to be the heiress to a family fortune, and we're just protectin' her from those who are tryin' to keep her away from her rightful inheritance."

"Oh, that sounds ever so excitin'!" exclaimed Serra.

Erk frowned. "Sounds kind of dangerous, to me..."

At this, the nun elbowed him hard in the ribs, causing the gunman to grunt and fall silent.

Meanwhile, Sain had turned to Mark, who had been observing the proceedings with some curiosity.

"Hey Mark, you don't mind if these folks join up with us, do ya?"

Mark shook his head. "I don't see why not, Sain... They've already proven themselves in battle, as it were." _And it will give me another chance to talk with an actual gunfighter,_ he added to himself, as he cast a glance over at Erk.

"Then it's settled, then! I'll just have a word with Miss Lynette. If you folks would follow me..."

Sain led the other two in the direction that Lyn had headed off to, as Mark looked on... The nun rode past with a pleased expression on her face; Erk on the other hand, looked less than happy about the situation.

As the gunman rode past Mark, he just barely made out the words that Erk uttered under his breath.

"What have I gotten myself into...?"

xXx

With their two new companions in tow, Lyn's group passed into La Sienna county without incident. As they crossed the border, the bandits that were after them finally seemed to have stopped their pursuit, as well... Perhaps Wil was right about the law being tougher around here, thought Mark.

Alas, Sain's hopes that they would reach a 'real town' before nightfall were soon dashed, and the group was forced to camp out in the wilderness again... Although the cavalryman didn't seem too disappointed by this, as he had found something else to occupy his time.

Sain had had little luck in 'getting to know' the ladies in the group, so far... Lyn was just exasperated by any advances he made towards her (as was Kent, Mark couldn't help noticing), and Florina simply avoided the rest of the men, as much as possible...

Sister Serra, on the other hand, seemed starved for any sort of attention, and lapped up any compliments that the soldier was willing to lavish upon her.

Mark was kind of uncomfortable with this; she was a nun after all, and had vows of celibacy, and such... Still, perhaps he was just misinterpreting good old 'Southern hospitality', for something else entirely. Also, the nun had been travelling in the company of Erk, who was indifferent enough to cast gloom over the entire group...

The exchanges between Sain and Serra were amusing at first, but did get tedious after a while... And by the time camp had been set up and dinner had been eaten, most of the group had opted to hastily retreat to their bedrolls and turn in for the night, as the pair continued their playful banter, by the campfire.

As Mark excused himself and edged away from the fire, he then realized that not all of the group had turned in for night; Erk was sitting outside of the firelight, leaning against a log. Somehow, he had found a piece of straw somewhere and was chewing on it idly, shifting it from one side of his mouth, to the other.

Mark swallowed nervously. At last, here was his chance to speak with a real gunfighter; he just hoped that it would work out better than the last time he talked to someone from the group, in private...

He had previously been trying to have a word with Florina (with little success, as the Wind Rider kept on avoiding him). So finally, Mark had begged Lyn to talk to Florina, so that he could have a closer look at her horse (despite the El Rhean horses' legendary dislike of men). That didn't go quite as well as Mark had hoped...

"I am so sorry, senor!" apologized Florina, as she fought to keep her horse's head steady, by gripping its bridle. "Javier must really like you, to want your hat so very much..."

"That's quite all right, Florina," panted Mark, as he tried to grab his hat back from Javier's teeth. The horse just managed to keep it out of his reach; he seemed to think it was a game, of some sort. "I guess I should be flattered, then..."

Mark glanced at the indentations now embedded in the brim of his bowler hat. _Well, at least I can now say there are the teethmarks of a genuine El Rhean horse on my hat,_ he thought, with a wry smile.

After taking a deep breath, Mark cautiously approached Erk. He didn't like invading the gunfighter's personal space, but his fascination with all things Western had got the better of him, again... Although Erk's aloofness was a bit intimidating, Mark didn't think the gunman would be the type to be offended, when questioned... Or so he hoped.

"Excuse me, sir.." Mark asked Erk hesistantly. "You mind if I sit here?"

The gunman paused in chewing his length of straw, for a moment. "Go right ahead," he answered.

"Um, thanks." Mark sat down, hugging his knees, keeping careful to stay a respectful distance from Erk.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Mark glanced sideways at Erk, and couldn't help noticing that underneath the all the trail dust, the gunfighter's clothing was actually quite fine; under his long trenchcoat, he wore a blue vest, and a red bandana; he was also wearing tan leather chaps and spurs, as well.

"You from back East?" Erk asked Mark suddenly, startling the latter from his observation. Mark nodded wordlessly.

"Thought so," replied the gunman, then fell silent again. Mark saw this as an opening, and cleared his throat, nervously.

"So... I hope you don't mind me asking, but... What's it like, to be a hired gun?"

Erk finally turned to look at him, and Mark tried not to flinch from his gaze... But there was only a continued lack of expression on the gunman's face. When Erk turned back to stare into the distance, Mark felt relieved.

"To be quite frank, Mr. Alexander," replied Erk suddenly, managing to catch Mark off guard again, "I'd rather be back home, studyin'."

Mark raised an eyebrow, at this. "Oh? So you're a scholar, then?"

Erk nodded. "A-yup."

As Mark took a closer look at the gunman's face, he then realized that Erk must only be in his mid-teens; he was even younger than Mark himself was. It must've been the gunman's cool competence that fooled him into thinking that Erk was older than he actually was.

Something then occurred to Mark. "Hold on... If you'd rather be studying, then what are you doing way out here?"

"I made a promise to my mentor," replied Erk slowly. "He said I couldn't just stay cooped up at home, readin' books; I had to go out into the world and learn something, as well."

"Wise words," observed Mark.

Erk shrugged. "I guess... But I have an obligation to the Marshall, and I ain't one to go back on my word."

Mark's brow wrinkled, at this. "Marshall?" he repeated.

"Oh, I'm sorry," apologized Erk. "I reckon I should explain... My mentor is the Marshall of Atlas Ridge, Pent Wrigley."

It took a few moments for Erk's words to sink in, but when they did, Mark's jaw dropped in shock.

"You're telling me... Your mentor is Marshall Pent Wrigley?"

"Yep. Have you heard of him?"

"Have I heard of him? Are you kidding me? Why, he's the most famous lawman in the West today! I've heard that he's the best gunslinger in all of El Libre... With the help of his wife and deputy, they've put dozens, maybe hundreds of outlaws behind bars... And he's only been the Marshall of Atlas Ridge for three years!"

Erk looked amused at Mark's reaction. "So, you have heard of him, then."

Mark coughed, as he got a hold of himself. "I'm so sorry... I'm getting carried away again, aren't I...?"

"It's all right. I never realized the Marshall was so famous, even back East."

Mark nodded. "I've read stories about him in the newspapers." _And cut them out,_ he added mentally, though he didn't say so aloud.

Erk continued to speak, in a preoccupied tone.

"The Marshall's done a lot for me, and I appreciate his advice, but... Like I said before, I'd much rather be back in Atlas Ridge, with my nose in a book, than out here, as a hired gun."

At this, Mark couldn't help chuckling to himself, causing Erk to glare at him.

"What's so funny?"

Mark cleared his throat, apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude... But it's funny you should say that." He then leaned back, and started to explain.

"Like you, I was a scholar back East; but I felt trapped being cooped up inside the university, studying all the time." Mark then turned, to look at Erk.

"That's why I came out West, you see. I wanted to experience everything I had been reading about, not just read it in a history book."

As Erk stared back at him, Mark gazed thoughtfully in the distance.

"It's odd, isn't it? You'd rather be home studying, and I'd rather be here, out West... Strange how that all works out."

Erk nodded slowly. "I reckon so..."

Mark glanced sideways, at the gunman again.

"Listen," began Mark. "I know people from the university I went to, back East... If you're ever interested in studying over there, let me know, all right? I'm sure I could arrange something."

Erk blinked in surprise. "Why, that's a mighty fine offer, Mark... Thank you."

The gunman then tipped his hat at him. "And if you're ever in Atlas Ridge, feel free to stop by the Marshall's office... I'm sure Marshall Wrigley would be more than happy to meet with you, once I have a word with him."

"Really?" asked Mark, his eyes lighting up with delight. As Erk gazed at him with amusement, Mark managed to compose himself.

"Um, I mean... That's very kind of you, Erk. Thanks."

The two then sat in a companionable silence, still wondering how two such different people could be so strangely alike.

TO BE CONTINUED...

xXxXx

I know I use the less common spelling of Pent's last name here (Wrigley rather than Reglay, both of which are used in the script; go inconsistancy!) but I used that one because it's a more common name in itself, in fitting with the Western-style names.

References:

Serra Hollingsworth - To make a long story short, it's a reference to a southern lady. (BTW, Serra's mannerisms in the story are heavily inspired by Scarlett O'Hara; maybe a bit of Blanche DuBois, as well.)

Erk Horn - Let me put it this way... Erk was originally translated as "Elk"; hence, "Elk Horn". (Please, don't kill me.) Oh, and Erk's outfit is sort of inspired by Brisco County Jr.'s, from which I got a lot of inspiration when writing this story.

Also, I've been considering writing a couple of side stories in the Burning Brand universe... One about Erk's past, and the other about the guys having a night out at a saloon. If anyone is interested, I may start working on these ideas on the side (although, I'm not sure I'd release the second one before Chapter 8 of this story, for various reasons).


End file.
